


Give You My Heart, Give You My Life

by orphan_account



Category: Hunger Games Series - All Media Types, The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Not Related, Angst, Durincest, Fili and Kili aren't brothers, Hunger Games AU, M/M, Major character death - Freeform, Violence, a few OCs for minor roles, fem!Smaug, it's the goddamn hunger games with five major characters, of course major character death, smaug is basically Effie just meaner
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-07
Updated: 2015-06-16
Packaged: 2018-03-21 17:32:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 52,188
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3700939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kili Disson, District 12. Fili Durin, District 4.<br/>Both want to survive, to return to their families, but when they meet, the games become much more difficult than they ever imagined.<br/>Only one can survive. Who will it be?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Reap What You Have Sown

**Author's Note:**

> Beta-ed by the lovely Alexandria: http://www.gipsy-dangerism.tumblr.com/  
> She's great, so take a look at her tumblr and her dA: http://www.zombieslayer13x.deviantart.com/

It was unusually cool for summer, a cold breeze playing with the washing strung out between the houses of District 12 . Kili gathered his jacket around his shoulders, looking around cautiously for any peacekeepers. After fourteen years of guard duty, certain peacekeepers tended to go easy on you if you were caught making trouble, but others would have you strung up without a second thought.

Detecting no-one near, the brunet drew closer to the fence, listening carefully for the telltale hum of electricity. He was almost touching the cool wire when he noticed it, cursing himself even as he pulled his hand back. He couldn’t let his guard down, not today, the day of the reaping. The peacekeepers always grew warier and stricter on the day of the reaping, feeling the Capitol’s control keener than ever.

Kili hurried over to a tall oak stretching its branches over the fence, all the while turning his head this way and that so he wouldn’t miss anyone coming his way. He scaled it with practiced ease, crawling along the broad bough over the fence into the meadow. A dark, tall pine almost met the oaks branches, close enough for Kili to reach. Taking a deep breath, he straightened up as much as he dared and jumped, arms tightening around the pine so he was dangling in mid-air. With a curse he pulled himself up until he had hauled himself up safely , arms and legs wrapped around the branch like a strange, oversized squirrel, rough bark scratching against his cheek. Small flakes of it stuck in his hair, and he could feel sticky sap against his knees, bleeding through his thin trousers.

Letting out a deep breath, Kili looked the surrounding area over, careful not to miss anything. He caught a flash of white around the corner of a house behind the fence and flattened himself against the branch just before the peacekeeper came around the corner. His heart was thumping loudly, and he tightened his shaking hands around the tree limb as if afraid he would fall and alert the soldier to his presence. The brunet barely dared to breath until the white-uniformed man had passed out of his line of sight.

Letting out a slow breath, he slid down the branch and carefully climbed to the ground. Ducking, he ran towards the forest as quick as he could, his heartbeat only calming when he reached the safe shadows of the trees. As soon as he was sure he was out of sight of the fence, he straightened up, gathering his bearings before stepping under the cover of the trees, still cautious.

He reached the hiding place in a matter of minutes, carefully pulling out his bow from its hollow in a tree. Strapping on the quiver, he quickly inspected the bowstring before he started out into the forest, the familiar sounds and smells of it comforting and uplifting.

Kili had to walk for almost half an hour before the trees receded slightly and he stepped out into a clearing. The early sun was casting speckled shadows through the branches to fall on the ground littered with fallen pine needles and cones. The air was fresh here, far away from the smoky city.

A huge man was sitting on a stump at the edge of the clearing, but he stood when Kili approached and gave him a rather fearsome smile. Kili inclined his head.

“Mister Dwalin.” He greeted the older man. Dwalin had been the only tribute of District 12 to win the Hunger Games, about ten years ago. He was a huge, heavy man, seeming almost emotionless and most of the time completely untroubled by his experiences in the arena, but Kili knew otherwise. He and Dwalin had known each other for six years, and after such a length of time, even a man like Dwalin began to crack.

Kili hadn't actually been meant to see it, the cracks, and the grown-ups still strove to hide it from him, but it was hard not to notice the look in Dwalin's eyes sometimes, or the stench of alcohol on his breath after he came back from yet another year of mentoring some unfortunate youth.

Dwalin sat back down and patted the space next to him, Kili dropping down next to him. The soft sound of birdsong filled the air, the gentle rustle of leaves, and they sat like that for a moment, soaking it in.

“Another year gone.” Dwalin rumbled. “And all the training has borne fruits. You’re quite good with that bow now.” Dwalin squinted at the teen. “You know, I almost hope you’ll be picked, just so you can surprise everyone by winning.”

Kili snorted, punching Dwalin’s arm gently. For a long while, the two sat side by side, content for the moment.

“I still remember the first time you came here.” Dwalin's tone was teasing beneath the melancholy when he spoke again. “So sweet and innocent.”

“Stop it.” Kili mumbled, ducking his head and grinning when Dwalin chuckled, ruffling Kili’s hair. The former tribute had grown fond of Kili, almost as of a son, and Dwalin had arisen as a kind of father figure for Kili long ago.

He _did_ remember, the first time he'd met Kili while training in the woods. After the Hunger Games, he had become restless quickly, going into the forest to hunt or to train frequently, and one day, Kili had stumbled upon him. He’d never forget it, that little, scrawny kid looking up at him, wide-eyed. Dwalin had been speechless for a long while, not quite knowing how to react, and the kid had broken the silence. “Can you show me?” Its voice had been strong, large brown eyes lingering on the large bow in Dwalin’s hand. Dwalin hadn’t really thought about it; it was one of his weaknesses. “It’s illegal.” He had replied instead. The kid had stuck out his bottom lip. “I don’t care. I want to learn.”

Dwalin hadn't even asked for Kili's mother's permission, but luckily for him, she had approved of the idea. Kili's mother wasn't a woman one wanted to anger.

Dwalin cleared his throat and shook his head to chase away the memories. “Alright, Kili," he clapped the lad on the shoulder, moving him to stand and nock his first arrow. "Let's see what you can do."

 

Kili tramped back down the streets, past the soot-blackened houses, the occasional piles of rubble, and the capitol flags swaying gently in the wind to celebrate the reaping. His home was just on the outskirts of the richer part of the district, not quite in the Seam yet. It was little more than a grubby wooden shell with a veranda out front. The back half had been destroyed by a bomb fourteen years ago, and the partition wall his mother had set up to separate the debris from the intact house was clumsily built.

After the war, few people had time or strength to rebuild their homes, the Capitol driving them on relentlessly and weakening them in whatever ways they could, and the grief still too heavy upon the people to rebuild more than was necessary.

His older sister was sitting on the veranda, staring out at the city when Kili approached. She was eighteen, today was her last Reaping, after this she would be set to work somewhere in the District. Kili would have thought she would be grateful, but she seemed a mixture of terrified and hopeful.

“My, aren’t you early today.” She called out to her little brother as he hoisted himself over the railing instead of taking the steps. “I thought you had fled and left us here.”

“Don’t be stupid.” Kili grunted, sitting down on the arm of her chair.  
“I would have done it.” She replied bluntly. Kili smiled and looped his arms around her neck. “Yeah, but I can’t miss today. It’s your day of triumph! After this, you’ll be free!”

“Huh!” His sister pushed him away impatiently. “I won’t have to stand there every year, hoping I won’t be chosen. Freedom is still a far way off.” There was a long pause, her eyes clouding over briefly. “Maybe there’s a part of me hoping I’ll be chosen.”

“No.” Kili’s answer was immediate, almost automatic. “If you volunteer, I'm coming after you and dragging you back. You can't do that to me and mum. You can’t just give up.”

Another long silence. Kili could hear the wind whistling, the washing flapping in the breeze, the bark of a stray dog, the shouts of the grubby children in the house across the road. His sister sighed, turning away. “We should get ready.”

 

Although the entire population of District 12 was gathered in front of the Justice Building murmuring lowly among each other, one could hear every step of Smaug’s scaly red high-heels. The woman stepped onto the stage with her usual predatory, slithering grace. She surveyed the square, a slow smile spreading across her face, before cocking her head to one side like a giant lizard.

 “Welcome to the 14th annual Hunger Games.” She declared, her magnified voice echoing across the District. “Soon, two brave young youths will be chosen to represent their district in a fight to the death in the arena.”

 Most representatives of the Capitol spoke about it as if it were all a big game, but Smaug always sounded like she knew exactly what she was doing, what the Capitol was doing, as if she smelt their fear and basked in the scent.

“But first, of course, an announcement by President Thror.” The large hangings with the Capitol seal fluttered in the gentle breeze as the screen turned black and the anthem began to play.

After fourteen years of watching the announcements, Kili knew exactly what the District would be shown on the screen. Besides, the footage always upset him; he still suffered from nightmares, even though he had been just two years old at the time of the war. The dreams were fuzzy and indistinct, but after the reaping, they would always win a new clarity, and for nights after it, he would wake up screaming.

He concentrated instead on the rather bizarre appearance of Smaug. She was tall and strong, wore a red scaly skirt that reached to her bony knees and a matching jacket. A red dragon’s tail snaked up her stockinged leg, only enhancing the appearance of an oversized lizard. Her heels were sleek and elegant, so high and delicate that Kili wondered how she could even walk with them, and her wig was designed like flowing flames. Her eyes were as red as her outfit, her slit pupils like those of a snake, flickering and glimmering dimly as the TV screen behind her shifted once again to show a view of the square, the deep voice of the President fading into the background.

“Ladies first.” She purred immediately, flexing her clawed fingers eagerly. She was looking forward to it, Kili could tell, looking forward to the glamour and the excitement, and maybe even the violence of the Games.

His heart was beating loudly and rapidly, blood rushing in his ears as he caught his sister’s gaze across the square and tried to give her a reassuring smile. He barely heard Smaug’s voice reading out the name on the slip of paper, just barely registering the surname _._ It wasn’t his sister’s, he noted, but he didn't allow relief yet.

His chest grew tight with fear as Smaug asked for volunteers. He couldn’t breathe, his throat was dry. The square was silent except for the sound of shuffling boots on cobblestones, of wind playing with the Capitol banners. His sister remained mute. His shoulders sagged with relief as Smaug moved to the next bowl. His sister was safe.

His relief was still blinding him to the world when Smaug reached into the bowl with the boy’s names and delicately snagged one with her crimson nails.

The wind howled mournfully, carrying with it to the square the stench of the mines, of sweat and of fire.

“Kili Disson.” Smaug announced, not even needing a microphone for her voice to reach even into Kili’s relief-induced trance. His heart stopped. He could practically feel all his blood rushing into the ground as the silence roared in his ears.

Then came the dreaded sound of all the heads in the square turning his way, some with small gasps, some with empty stares, and more than a few with open relief. The boy behind him dug a bony elbow into his ribs to get him moving, the brunet stumbling forwards before he could recall where to go, how to walk. A few boys reached out to graze his elbow or squeeze his shoulder reassuringly, but Kili hardly registered them, walking mechanically onwards. The brunet couldn’t look at any of them as he walked towards the stage, afraid of what he might see in their eyes and what he might not. He didn't know if he wanted their pity.

Tears blurred his vision at the thought of leaving his family alone, but he willed them away, determined not to look weak with all of Panem watching. He refused to look to his sister or mother, knowing that his strength would crumble the moment he laid eyes on either of them.

Instead, he stared straight ahead, at the girl who was looking down at him from the stage with fear clearly etched into her haggard features, at Smaug’s lazy smile. As he drew nearer Kili noticed with a thrill of horror that even her teeth were filed to points. He felt like he had no control over his limbs as he walked up the stairs and turned to face his District, face the cameras, face Panem.

He felt numb, everything was happening so slowly and so far away. The people in the square were a solid mass of faceless bodies, cold and remorseless, their relief almost tangible. He could hear the girl next to him breathing, too quickly, too harshly. She was thin and drawn, and probably knew as well as Kili did that she stood no chance.

Until that moment it was as if he hadn’t been fully aware of his situation, too stunned to really take it in, but as he stood next to the girl, in front of the crowds, feeling the fear radiating off the mass of people around him, it was as if it all came crashing down on him.

He was going into the arena.

And chances were he’d come back in a casket.

 

With Smaug’s “ _Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favour”_ still ringing in his ears, Kili sat on the plush couch in the mayor’s mansion. His fingers fisted in the cloth, curling and uncurling tensely. He closed his eyes and listened to his laboured breathing while waiting for his thoughts resume some kind of order. His long ponytail tickled the back of his neck as he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and burying his face in his hands. His heart was still racing, every fibre of his body urging him to flee. But he couldn’t, not with the peacekeepers outside, not without seeing his sister and mother a last time.

Dizziness overcame him and he slumped back on the couch, fighting down the urge to scream. His thoughts where a whirlwind, the racing of his mind not letting him catch his breath. A door opened somewhere down the hallway, and Smaug’s high-heels tapped down the corridor, two hurried sets of feet scurrying after her. Kili breathed in and out slowly, trying to compose himself as the door to the room opened. “Five minutes.” Smaug declared, slamming the door behind her.

Kili looked at his family as if seeing them for the first time. His sister’s eyes were red and bloodshot from crying, but she had gotten herself under control again. His mother was pale, she seemed to have aged ten years since the Reaping, the lines around her eyes and mouth seeming deeper than ever. Kili stood up, his arms hanging uselessly by his side.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, lurching forward and enveloping both of them in a hug. The air seemed heavy with sadness, the house quiet around them, as if in silent respect. His mother sobbed into his shoulder, his sister trying valiantly to crush his ribcage. “I’m so sorry,” Kili repeated hoarsely.

“You couldn’t help it.” His mother whispered back, Kili wrapping both arms around her tightly.

“I know.” Kili replied, the storm of his thoughts finally slowing down, beginning to cry as he buried his face in his mother's jacket. “I’m still sorry.”

With great reluctance he broke away from the hug and pulled his sister into a tight embrace. She was thin and bony, but her arms wrapped around him tightly, clawing into the fabric of his shirt tightly.

 “I wish I had been picked and not you,” she whispered, “ I wish I could have volunteered for you. Please, Kili. You can’t die.” Her voice broke. “You can't let that happen.” She broke away and looked him in the eyes, gripping his arms tightly. “Promise me you’ll win.”

Kili nodded. “I’ll win.”

She tried to smile and hugged him tightly again, carding her fingers through his hair like she had done when he was a child, when he woke up screaming in the middle of the night. He talked to his mother over her shoulder, voice cracking. “You’ll be fine without me, right?”  
“Of course.” His mother wiped away her tears. “You’ll be fine without us, right?”

“No.” Kili whispered into his sisters hair. “I don’t think I will.”

“You will.” His mother took his face between her hands gently, her eyes burning into his. “You'll be alright. Your sister is right. You have to win. You have to come back to us.”

Kili nodded, knowing full well that he wouldn't be alright, but that wasn't what his mother had to hear now. “I'll come back, I promise.”

She smiled tightly, the fire in her eyes still not fading, and pressed a smooth black stone into his palm. He felt thin, delicate runes under his hands as she tightened her hand around his. "So you don't forget."

“I won't forget,” Kili said firmly. “I won't give up.”

His mother's smile grew watery, more sad than anything else. “Your father would be proud.”

 _No,_ Kili thought, _no, he wouldn’t. He’d be shocked, terrified, helpless. Just like you. Just like everyone._

But instead of saying it, he just nodded.

He was about to say something else when Smaug burst into the room with a wild smile. “Time’s up!” she trilled happily, her mood growing better with each passing second. Before Kili could protest, her talon-like hand grabbed him by his arm and steered him firmly towards the door.

Kili turned back to see his mother crumpling to the floor, his sister’s arms tightening around her. Then the door closed on the sight, and, high heels clicking in a way that seemed almost threatening, Smaug lead him to the waiting car.

Fili Durin turned to his District a last time and gave them a little bow, smirking confidently. The girl beside him just nodded gracefully, haughtily almost. The train began to draw away from the station, and Fili threw his mother a last kiss before stepping back for the train door to close with a hiss.

For a long while, he and his fellow tribute stared at each other silently, weighing up their opponent. She was strong and lithe, but that was to be expected: Only the best of the best got to volunteer for the Hunger Games in District 4. Fili had had to fight several other contenders for weeks beforehand to gain the right to volunteer.

Finally, she turned away with a small sniff, making her way past the doors to their rooms and towards the dining carriage. It was dark already, only the golden lights of the lamps overhead illuminated the narrow passageway. Fili sighed, and, dropping the masquerade for a moment, slipped a tired hand over his face before following his fellow tribute.

The dining room was furnished with light wood and blue velvet. Fili leaned in the doorway, watching the girl exchange polite greetings with her mentor. His own  mentor was nowhere to be seen yet. He didn’t quite know what to expect, not having seen much more of him than the footage from the Games he had won. Fili didn't know anything about him, just that he was good.

The blond looked up as a short, stocky man entered through the door opposite him, wiping oily hands on a greasy rag.

“Evenin’.” He greeted the two others jovially before reaching for a bottle of wine on the table.

“This all there is?” he grumbled. “Disgustin', fancy Capitol alcohol. No good.”

“It’s all there is, Bofur.” The woman replied with a small smile. “Go greet your tribute.”

“Ah!” the man’s gaze alighted on Fili. He was wearing slightly oil-smeared clothes, a worn, dirty hat perched atop his dark head, and a floppy, long moustache. His smile was friendly and sincere, had sparkling dark eyes and the air of a slightly bumbling, but happy man well-settled in his life, not really what one might expect of a victor. Fili blinked in brief surprise before rearranging his features into a smug smile, giving him a short nod in greeting.

“’Nother one, eh?” Bofur sauntered over to him, sizing him up briefly. Fili inclined his head. “Ye ready to die young, lad?” Bofur poured himself some wine, offering the bottle to Fili.

“I’d prefer not to.” Fili chuckled, pouring himself a glass as well. Bofur downed his drink quickly, pulling a face at the taste. "Why th' Capitol can't find some proper alcohol, I'll never understand,” he grumbled to himself before giving Fili his full attention again. “How old are ye?”

“Seventeen.” Fili replied. “Old enough to have a good chance.”

“Ye’re right about the chance," Bofur agreed, pursing his lips. "Ye look strong, seem clever enough and ‘ave quite a pretty face. Th’ girls love the handsome ones, an’ some o’ the boys like ‘em too. Must 'ave some kind o' skill to even 'ave come this far.”

His mentor looked him up and down again critically, Fili weighing up his mentor as well. On second glance, Bofur was heavy and muscular, and his friendly face also wore traces of hardship. His hairy forearms were covered with pale scars and there was the wariness of the hunted lurking about his twinkling eyes. He was hiding the traces of the arena well, but Fili supposed the scars ran too deep to be forgotten thus.

Suddenly, the bearded man stuck out an oil-stained hand with an approving smile. “Th’ name's Bofur. I won the fourth Hunger Games, been trainin' Tributes ever since. No other victors since then, see. District 4 doesn't exactly 'ave a winnin' streak. Try an’ break that pattern, would ye?”

“Fili Durin.” Fili replied, accepting the proffered hand with a grin. “I’ll do my best.”

 

They settled down for supper together, both mentors conversing with their tributes in low tones. They didn't have much time, and they'd have to use what they had if they wanted to win.

“Weapon o’ choice?” Bofur had the manners of a pig, and the appetite, but at least he didn’t speak with his mouth full. Fili was a healthy eater himself, but even he paled at the sight of the amount of food Bofur piled on his plate.

“Swords. Twin ones.” He replied, his food still lying untouched before him. He was much too wound up to eat. “Knives," he continued, "throwing axes. I can handle most weapons, but I’m best with those.”

“S’good.” Bofur nodded in approval. “Deadly at every range.”

Fili smiled. “That’s what I was going for.”

Bofur swallowed and cleared his throat. “Lesson one, an' th' most important one, come to think o' it,” Bofur pointed at Fili’s untouched food with his knife. “Eat. Drink. Rest. You'll need your strength, so take care o' yerself. They ain’t called the’ Hunger Games fer nothin’, ye know.”

Fili nodded grimly and forced himself to swallow down some more of his meal. Taking care of himself wasn't something he was good at, but he knew how important it was to stay nourished and hydrated in the Games. Many tributes died in the first few days from lack of water.

“Are ya any good with alliances? Clever enough to break ‘em when th’ time comes?”

Fili pursed his lips. Another thing he wasn't exactly great at. It was a weakness, he knew, how easily he got attached to people, but he was determined not to let it play against him in any way. “I’d prefer to operate on my own.”

“Bad idea, lad. Use all the strengths ye have, and as a District 4 tribute, one of ‘em is in yer pocket: Bein’ a Career.” Bofur stabbed his meat for emphasis, looking at Fili fiercely from under his hat. The blond nodded wearily, “And if I become attached to them?”

“Leave.” The answer came at once. “Remember that they’re the enemy, an'  remember that honour won’t buy ye survival, not in th’ arena. Be mean, cruel even, and yer gonna win, I can tell.”

“I’ll remember.”

 

Fili sank into the plush couch before the television, letting out a slow breath as the Capitol Seal flashed across the screen, anthem beginning to blare before Bofur muted the TV with an annoyed grunt.

"They jus' 'ave to blare that bloody anthem at every opportunity, don't they?" he grumbled, settling next to Fili as the large square of District 1 hovered into view, and the recap of the Reaping began.

 

_Biting through flesh, biting through bone_

_You shall reap what you have sown_

_Bloodlust,  anger and despair,_

_Don’t feel, don’t see, don’t care_

_And once it is over, once you have won_

_You shall reap what you have sown._

The voice of Thranduil Elvenking filling the train compartment with wishes of _Happy Hunger Games_ and commentaries of “ _This year’s lot looks exciting, seems like we’ll have an interesting game.”_ as Bofur turned up the volume again, leaning forward curiously.

The camera was still on District 1, where a broad, long-haired young man volunteered along with a pretty blonde girl. The boy was surely almost too old to take part, a thin beard already apparent on his cheeks. They announced their names, both with that confident coolness  that most people of their District had, and though Fili barely registered the girl’s, the young man had such a deep, royal, velvety voice that it stuck in his mind, replaying while District 2 and 3 were shown.

_Thorin Oakenshield._

He watched himself volunteer, smiling smugly, his far-too-obvious dimples were easily visible, even through the thin blond beard he had managed to grow, making him look far too young, too harmless. He watched himself announce his name in a tone of voice that already spoke of victory. He watched himself, every of his movements onscreen belying the turmoil within him.

“Goin’ fer cocky, hmm?” Bofur raised his eyebrows at the younger man, considering. “I think we’ll keep that approach. Ye do it well.”

“Thank you.” Fili’s attention was still directed towards the screen, where District 5 and 6 were being shown. Tauriel Silvan from District 7 was one of the few real threats, her confident, deliberate calm unusual for someone from the poorer Districts.

The rest of the Districts didn’t seem noteworthy in any way. Not Azog Defiler, a brutish teenager from 6, or Bilbo Baggins, a small, rather young boy from 11.

District 12 was the first since 7 to in any way interest Fili. It wasn’t the female, a frail, weak thing. No, it was the boy, a dark-haired teen around his age who was announced as _Kili Disson._ Dark stubble covered his jaw, and he moved with purposeful grace, the controlled movements suggesting experience with weapons of some kind. As the camera  zoomed closer to focus on his face, Fili could see the almost pained shock, but also the sparking fire in his eyes.

Kili Disson would be competition.

 

Bofur shook him from his grey, desperate dream-world as soon as they entered the tunnel leading to the Capitol. “Almost there.” He announced, switching on the lights in the carriage. “Get dressed, get clean, get ready."

“Huh?” Fili rubbed his eyes, hissing at the bright light. “How late?” he groaned, crawling out of bed slowly and pitching forward before regaining his balance.

“Noon.” Bofur tossed him the prepared clothes, a light blue tunic and soft trousers. “Hope ye ain’t usually such an early bird.”

Fili grunted in reply as the door snapped shut behind his mentor. Blinking blearily as Bofur's steps faded, Fili tried to shake himself awake, changing quickly and braiding his hair before tying it back in a neat ponytail. Splashing cold water over his face and the back of his neck, he rubbed his temples, trying to push the dream from his mind before making his way towards the dining carriage.

The girl and her mentor were already there, discussing something in low voices.

“Bofur’s not here.” The woman said before Fili even thought to ask. The blond nodded. “When are we arriving at the Capitol?”

“Half an hour?” she shrugged, “Not much longer than that. Bofur’s in his room. You should probably join him.”

Fili nodded his thanks and grabbed some bread before making his way towards his mentor’s room.

 

Bofur’s room was a lot larger than his, filling an entire carriage. It reminded Fili of some kind of garage, or maybe an inventor’s laboratory. The desk was overflowing with papers, some strange machine puffed in the corner and another was half-dismantled on the bed, with Bofur leaning over it.

“Fili!” Bofur greeted him with his usual happy smile. “’Pologies fer the mess. ‘S a bit of a hobby. Machines an' stuff, not makin’ a mess.”

Instead of an answer, Fili pointed at the occupied bed. “Don’t you need to sleep?”

“Ah,” Bofur’s smile faded, his hat slipping to one side, “’S a bit difficult, ye see. Sleep. Th’ arena, it likes appearin’ in dreams. Dead people haunt you, Fili. I don’ believe in ghosts, but memories, memories are very real an’ very, very terrifyin’.”

“Oh.” Fili didn’t quite know what else to say. “You wanted to talk to me, right?” he changed the subject quickly.

Bofur nodded, but his smile didn't return, the light in his eyes seeming to fade into the background. “I need ye to be absolutely sure 'bout this. Ye ever wonder why all victors have their hobbies? Why most of ‘em have a drinkin’ problem, or do drugs?”

“They don’t have anything to do with all their free time and money.” Fili replied, looking at some of the plans more closely, more to avoid that look on Bofur's face than anything else

“Wrong.We try an’ forget. But that’s th’ one thing the Capitol don’t want us to do, ferget. We were thrown into that arena fer a reason, Fili, and the reason is to remind us, to remind everyone, of the war, and who won it. Don’t ever mistake the Hunger Games for anythin’more, ferget th' glory. We’re prisoners o’ war, we ain’t gladiators; we’re beasts thrown in there for their amusement. You were a little ’un at the time o' the rebellion. Ye probably still have dreams.”

Fili nodded, unsure what he was supposed to say. He didn't quite know what Bofur was hoping to achieve.

 “Well,” Bofur continued, “lemme tell ye something. It'll only get worse from now on, th' fear, th' guilt. Winnin' the Games ain’t a victory. It’s just… winning.”

Fili bit his lip. Bofur wasn’t exactly helping calm down. His mentor came over to Fili and poked him in the chest.

“Ye have to be absolutely sure if ye want to stand a chance. Ye sure ye can do it? Ye sure ye won't just give up?”

Fili took a deep breath, having to think about that question for a moment. It was his dream, always had been, to win the Hunger Games. To make his mother proud, if anything. To go for the highest honour possible.

“Yes.” He could do it. He'd been training for this for years.

“Then I’ll help as good as I can.”

 

_And when it is over, when you have won_

_You shall reap what you have sown_

Taking a last deep breath, Fili pushed a stray strand of hair behind his ear. Bofur clapped a hand on his shoulder and leaned forward to whisper into his ear, “Yer a victor. Don’ ever ferget it.”

The train drew to a halt and the doors opened, and as Fili Durin stepped down onto the platform with his usual cocky gait, the voices of the crowd rose in a cheer.


	2. The Games Begin

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Games begin, and Kili meets the enemy tributes for the first time.

Kili felt like a frightened prey animal placed before the maw of the wolf as his 'prep-team' sized him up critically, looking him over from all angles, muttering quietly among themselves and giving off little sounds of distress whenever they came across some kind of imperfection. Perhaps he should have felt ashamed by his near-nakedness, but the awkwardness was overridden by fear. He wanted nothing more than to curl in on himself to hide, and the outlandish appearance of his prep-team only enhanced his insecurity.

He didn’t know if it was fair to call them human beings. Their bodies had been so disfigured, painted, pierced, and changed that it was difficult to recognize them as such at first sight. One of them had blue skin set off by an enormous pale purple wig; eyes that seemed too big for his face and garish make-up that hid his features almost completely. A woman was almost as naked as Kili was, elaborate tattoos covering the rest of her body and her face. The third looked like a strange cross between a bird and a human, complete with feathers sprouting out of the back of her neck.

Purple-wig took Kili’s face between his thumb and forefinger, twisting it this way and that as Kili scrunched his eyebrows in distaste, forcing himself to keep still instead of pulling away violently.

“He has a nice enough face.” Tattoo-girl decided. “Nothing we can’t save.”

“His arms would be nice as well,”  The bird-woman added. “But look at all those bruises. What _has_ he been doing with himself?”

It was disconcerting, being talked about as if you weren't in the room. Kili almost wanted to say something, but decided against it as Tattoo-Girl took his hair between her fingers. “We’ll have to cut and wash it.” She stuck out her hand, snapping her fingers impatiently. “Scissors, please.”

The process of turning Kili into something resembling their views of presentable was a long and arduous one. They weren’t even close to done with cutting his hair. His prep team scrubbed him down until he thought his skin was about to peel from his body, divested him of the hair on his legs (though luckily they agreed to leave his scruffy stubble intact), tried their best to cover up the scars and scratches left over from hunting trips, and slathered him in some strange lotion that was supposed to bring out his natural tan, unfortunately with the side effect of making him look like a glowing freak.

Hours had passed before the three of them stepped back to survey their work. They nodded at each other, seemingly satisfied, murmuring among themselves in their high-pitched voices. One of them jumped around excitedly, “Ooh, bring in Dori, bring in Dori!”

The bird-like woman seemed completely unfazed by their apparent success. With a firm nod at Kili, she took the other two by the shoulders and led them from the room, the other two still chattering excitedly.

After that there was nothing to do but wait.

Kili, still feeling overly exposed, draped a shift over his shoulders and walked around the room in an attempt to dispel his unease. It was large, light filtering in through a semi-circle shaped window that spanned an entire wall. Before it stood two comfortable, but elegant, couches with a glass table between them. Kili headed over to the window, looking out over the Capitol.

District 12 would be baking now, slowly smouldering and dying under the merciless afternoon sun. But the Capitol basked in it, protected from the heat by the mountains surrounding the city, standing tall and proud and invincible in the noon light. It was unaffected by the war, not like District 12 with its shelled house, mass graves and starved, crippled survivors skulking around on street corners even after fourteen years. The Capitol was making sure that they did not recover too quickly.

People were milling about on the streets, although from up here, Kili could only see bright specks upon straight roads. Those were the people who were going to throw him into an arena to watch him die, to watch him fight the other tributes to the death. He leaned forward, placing his forehead against the cool glass as dizziness overcame him. His story was over when it had barely begun. He was nothing but a warning, now, a toy the Capitol could play with as they wished.

Kili hadn’t allowed himself to feel hopelessness until now. He couldn’t, not when he needed to win. But as he stood there, above that unmoving, cold city, he felt it overwhelm him in torrents. The snap of the door as it closed brought him back to the present, and he whirled to face his designer.

Dori was a small, rather round man. His skin was pale and soft, almost white, and his silver, silky hair and beard were done up in an elaborate, over-the-top hairstyle. He seemed like only the ghost of a man, all silver and white and flowing, soft clothes.

“Kili Disson, is it not?” Kili’s stylist smiled, showing off perfect white teeth. Kili inclined his head respectfully.

“You’re a piece of good luck,” Dori said cheerfully, sizing him up as the prep team had before him. Not quite knowing how to react, Kili just shrugged. Dori smiled as he sat on one of the couches. “Please, sit, sit!” The silver-haired stylist gesticulated wildly at the seat opposite him until Kili warily sank down onto it.

“Have you had any breakfast yet, Kili?” Dori smiled kindly, turning his head just so in direction of the window so Kili could see the numerous silver studs in his ear. The young tribute shook his head, “Not yet, sir. I was too nervous to eat on the train.”

“Oh, please, just 'Dori' will do.” Dori laughed, a bit too high, a bit too shrill, like everyone from the Capitol did. He pressed a button on the arm of his couch and a platter of food rose up to rest on the table-top. Kili’s stomach growled, but at the same time he felt disgusted by the mere prospect of food.

“Eat.” Dori encouraged. “You’ll have enough time to starve later.” Sadness flitted through his eyes, and Kili was reminded that he was about the age to have been in the military during the war, when they had pulled in civilians because there weren't enough peacekeepers left.

Kili slowly took a piece of rich, warm bread and bit into it. The moment he did, all disgust at the food, all fear of what was ahead of him, all decorum vanished. Dori watched as Kili helped himself to the food as if he hadn’t eaten for days, a small smile on the stylist’s face.

When Kili was done and had licked the remainders of the food from his fingers, he looked up at Dori apologetically. The silver-haired man leaned forward.

“So.”

Kili wiped his mouth, still ashamed of his lack of manners.

“The Hunger Games,” Dori continued, “I trust I don’t have to inform you of who I am?”

“No.” Kili replied quietly, “ You're the Designer. You’re here to pretty me up for the cameras, to make this thing entertainment. You're going to turn murder into a fashion show. You’re here to drape an illusion of glamour over this sick, sick reminder that they can do anything to us, _anything.”_

“Peace, Disson.” Dori motioned for him to calm down. “You’re right: Every drop of blood spilled is a waste, especially now, so short after the war. But I wouldn't speak of such matters so openly.”

He cleared his throat. “Officially, it is my job to give this whole affair a bit of glamour. But I’m here because I like designing things, and because I think I can make the crowd like you, and, by extension, me. This is an _opportunity_ for me and I’m not about to waste it, so you can trust that I will do my utmost to help you win.”

Kili’s throat was dry. What had he gotten himself into? He didn’t know how to treat all these strange people, how to react to everything that was thrown in his way.

“I believe in you already, Kili. You’re fierce. You’re strong. You have this graceful, deadly air, and you’re handsome." There was an almost insane spark in Dori's eyes as he continued, "I will make you mind-blowing, mystical, beautiful. I will make you unforgettable.”

“I’m not the unforgettable type; Nor mind-blowing, mystical or any of those things.” Kili shifted uneasily, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dori snorted. “Of course you are. Now, let’s get to the costume. You’re nice and dark; that’ll go well with your overall theme: Coal mining, isn't it? We’ll dye your hair just a shade darker if you don’t mind, make it raven black. Strong highlights, deep shadows. We’ll make you seem almost a bit feral. D’you know how you’re going to represent yourself for the camera?”

Kili gulped. He hadn't really thought of it before. “I think graceful and deadly will do if you say so.”

Dori smiled. “I do. Graceful and deadly will suit you very well.”

Kili licked his lips nervously. “I’ll trust your judgment on this, si… Dori.”

Dori smiled. “That’s very heart-warming to hear. Now, just wait here for a minute while I get the prep team and the costume. You’ll look like a god, Kili.” And with a squeeze of his shoulder, Dori left the room.

 

Kili glanced at his reflection warily, playing with the slashed cuffs of his skin-tight costume. He felt uncomfortable in his sleek outfit, but he had to admit that he looked… dangerous. His make-up was dark and dramatic, highlighting his cheekbones and throwing his eyes into shadow. The black costume had flame patterns at the sleeves and the padded shoulders made Kili seem stronger than he actually was. His hair fell over his shoulders loosely, and though the costume was simple, it was impressive: sleek and deadly. Kili felt clumsy and awkward as he pulled at the tight pants carefully, painfully aware of his every movement. He felt exposed, and, quite frankly, he couldn’t understand Dori’s excitement over the costume. It may look nice, but he felt stupid, as if he didn't belong here, dressed like this.

“The lights will make the flames light up so they’ll look like they’re flickering and glowing.” Dori smiled as he tugged at the cloth, adjusted Kili’s hair and handed him a pair of gloves. “You don’t have to do anything, just stay in character. Don’t wave, look at them as if they’re beneath you.”

“Have you discussed that with Dwalin?” Kili trusted his mentor more than the stylist in matters such as this. Dori clucked his tongue at him. “It was Dwalin who suggested it, lad.”

Dori gave him a last once-over before deeming him camera-worthy and gently pushing him in direction of the door. “Go on, go on. We’re running late anyway, you needed more work than expected, but you’re presentable enough now, I suppose.”

Kili almost stumbled as he took the first few steps, unused to the thick sole of his boots. He didn’t know how to step, couldn’t feel the ground beneath his feet. The costume was surprisingly easy to move in, soft cloth stretching and adjusting to allow Kili complete freedom.

Outside in the hallway, Kili met the female tribute from 12, who as of yet hadn’t spoken a single word either with him or Dwalin. She was pale underneath the make-up, but at least she had stopped shaking. Her jaw was set, her face determined, but panic flitted across her eyes in waves. Kili felt sorry for her; she was a bony, scared thing, and even the make-up and dress couldn’t hide her gauntness.  Either he or she would die soon, maybe at each other’s hands, so he didn’t want to get attached to her, but at the same time he felt the urge to comfort her somehow.

Dwalin appeared as well, nodding grimly as he looked them over. “Good. Go down there and do your thing. I'm going to get an early start on the whole sponsoring lark.”

Kili felt like he was readying himself for a war _._ His stomach seemed to be contracting as he entered the lift and waited for it to take him down to ground level, and as the doors opened silently, the heavy feeling in his gut only intensified.

The room they entered was low, large, and brightly lit with a row of twelve chariots in the middle. Tributes and Designers milled about, every single one of them looking more capable than Kili felt, even the tiny, curly-haired boy from 11. People were talking and someone was shouting out how many minutes were left before the beginning of the parade. Kili gulped as he stepped forward, hurriedly striding over to his own chariot so he wouldn’t have to talk to anyone.

Kili was scratching behind his horse’s ears when he heard footsteps approach. He turned to see a blond young man casually walking up to him before leaning against the chariot to study the younger tribute silently. The blond was shirtless and covered in some oily mixture that made his muscular body gleam. His trousers seemed to be made for outside work and he was barefoot. The shells and seaweed woven into his hair suggested District 4.

  
“Hey,” Kili said carefully, not sure what the other wanted.

“Hi.” The blond smiled, and despite himself, Kili felt his heart stop at that smile, at those dimples. The other cut a fine figure, and Kili blushed faintly as he found himself studying the older tribute more intensely.

“I’m Fili,” The blond continued as he offered his hand for Kili to shake, “Fili Durin.”

“Kili Disson,” Kili replied carefully. He didn’t know what to make of this strange friendliness, “District Twelve.”

“Four,” Fili replied, confirming Kili’s suspicions.

“Yeah,” The brunet nodded at the seaweed and the shells, “I noticed.”

Fili grinned, tugging at the seaweed strands, suddenly looking self-conscious. “Yeah, my stylist decided it’d be a good idea to let me go out there wearing as little as decently possible. Appeal to the female gaze.” Fili shrugged before continuing. “’Least I managed to keep the pants.”  Kili spluttered at that, trying to find an answer as his blush deepened.

“You look good though,” Fili cocked his head to the side, a smirk curling around his lips, “Better than any of the others.” And with that, the blond sauntered off, leaving Kili feeling like his face was about to catch fire.

 

Kili felt as if he were deaf as the chariots rolled out onto the streets. He was sure the crowd was roaring, but all he could hear was a dull rumble as he stood there behind a pair of coal-black horses, light reflecting off the flames on his costume, the girl next to him shaking like a leaf once more.

 Remembering what Dori had said, Kili took care to look proudly ahead, giving small, condescending nods every once in a while. He could just barely make out Fili several chariots in front of him, waving and giving small half-bows. The crowd must love him, Kili definitely would. The young man emanated a cockiness and bravery few could match, but also radiated steady calm and something else Kili couldn’t quite place his finger on. He watched the tributes’ faces on the screen, trying to remember them although he didn’t know why.

The girl was beginning to whimper gently, and, unable to stop himself, Kili reached out to take her hand, squeezing it gently. She seemed to calm a little at his warm grip, pressing back with surprising strength and Kili could have sworn she whispered a small ‘thank-you’.

 

Though he tried his best not to let anyone notice, Thorin was enormously relieved when they left the loud streets and flashing lights and entered the relative calm of the underground room again. The tributes were pointed towards a row of elevators by their stylists and left alone. Trying to wipe away the silver spray-paint in his hair, Thorin strode over to the nearest one. To his distaste, he was joined by four other tributes, almost enough to make the elevator feel cramped.

Thorin found himself watching them carefully as the lift began moving, trying to gauge their ability and the danger they posed. The boy from 11 was easy; he was a tiny thing, probably around twelve, and Thorin couldn’t remember being that small and soft even at that age. He was dressed like a miniature Dionysus, a god of peace and growth thrown into the rage of war. He wouldn’t last long.

The tribute from 12-Kili, he reminded himself- looked lethal and deadly in his simple costume, the cloth hugging his body tight enough that Thorin could see the muscles strung out along the bones. He was skinny but strong, and there was fire in his eyes, but aside from that, Thorin decided the boy was rather harmless.

Tauriel from District 7 was a different story entirely. Her costume was just as tight as Kili’s was, her face framed by branches sticking out from the back. She was lithe as a young tree, hard muscles visible whenever she moved. If what little Thorin knew about 7 was true, she was probably tough as nails and her stance suggested at least a little experience with weapons. She may not be a Career, but she would be an asset anyway, if he could get her on his side.

The one he was really worried about was Fili. From the broad, muscled expanse of his chest to his cocky smile and piercing blue eyes, he was every bit the perfect victor. The crowd loved him already, and, being District 4, he would know how to handle weapons. Maybe it would be safer to just kill the blond off on the first day.

Catching him staring, Fili inclined his head at Thorin politely. The older tribute returned the blond's gaze evenly as he began combing the jewels out of his hair. The utter silence was broken as District 11 and 12 began talking to each other quietly. Thorin wasn’t interested in their conversation, engaging instead in a staring contest with Fili. He glared at the younger, Fili returning his stare coldly and smirking in that cocky way of his. They were almost at the first floor when Fili gave a small, amused huff and turned away, watching Kili and District 11- _Bilbo,_ that was his name, _Bilbo-_ instead.

The doors opened and Thorin left with a curt nod at the four others. Yes, he decided as he walked towards his rooms to change. Fili would make an excellent ally.

 

Once Fili reached his quarters, he immediately dropped his facade. He flopped down onto the bed, unable to do anything more than lie there, feeling his heavy limbs sink into the soft mattress. It was a while before he got up, grimacing at the ugly smears his oil-slick body had left on the clean sheets. Sighing, he crossed the too-large room, locking himself in the bathroom to change.

He combed his fingers through his hair quickly to get rid of the shells and seaweed, scowling at the oily texture of his usually dry, sun-bleached tresses. He probably spent longer than he should have in the shower, enjoying the cool water on his skin, reminded strangely of home. When he got out, he felt more like himself again, dressing in a simple sky-blue tunic and woollen pants before going down to dinner.

He was the last to arrive, and the others had already started. Bofur interrupted his meal long enough to give Fili an approving smile, and Bifur, Fili’s stylist, clapped him on the back firmly as the tribute sat down beside him. The meal passed quickly, and before Fili knew it, they were gathering to watch the rerun of the opening ceremonies. The two tributes were on opposite ends of the long couch, each talking silently to their mentor. By unspoken agreement, they were trying to ignore each other as much as possible.

“So, what d’ye think?” Bofur asked Fili in a hushed tone. Fili bit his lip. “The Careers are looking good this year, especially Thorin. I should team up with them and try to kill all of them at once when we’re far enough into the games. If I leave even one of them alive, I have some serious competition that could cost me the games. Azog looks like a right brute, but we’ll see if he has any skill or if it’s just muscle. Tauriel is good. I think she could be part of the Careers, I want her on my team. She’ll be useful, and I want her close to me, not running around where I have no idea what she's doing. I need to keep an eye on her.”

Bofur nodded. “Good. What about Kili?”

Fili’s stomach lurched. “Disson?” he asked, “What about him?”

Bofur looked over at Fili, frowning. “You should take him more seriously. Look at him, he clearly knows his way about weapons of some sort. He’s memorable. It’s right there. He could be a victor if he tried, and I have no doubts that he will.”

Fili clenched his jaw. Kili was memorable, all right. More than that, he was truly _beautiful_. They had hardly talked, yet Kili had set something off in his heart, a glowing spark that warmed and burned simultaneously. He didn’t quite know what it was, if it was attraction or mere curiosity,  but he knew that he couldn’t let any of it influence him now, when so much depended on him staying distanced.

_Bloodlust, anger and despair,_

_Don’t feel, don’t see, don’t care_

“I can handle him,” Fili said firmly, trying to make himself believe it, because he doubted that he’d be able to kill Kili if it came down to it. “I can handle Disson.”

 

_Screams and gunshots, a hazy world of ash and blackened wood, of fire and blood. His knees weak, his throat hoarse from yelling, choking on the smoke as his mother drags him through the wreckage. She picks him up and he buries his head in her shoulder, trying to get away from the nightmare scope of destruction around them. Other figures running alongside them, weeping and screaming as bombs and bullets hit the already shattered houses. His mother’s shout and her warm blood trickling into his hair and down his face, and yet he is still too afraid to move, clinging to his mother in desparation as blood seeps from her shoulder._

_She trips and he cries out as she crushes him underneath her. Dust filling his mouth as his mother is lifted up, then a strong, familiar hand picking him up as well and he is moving again, clinging to his mother’s shirt as they try to get away, away from the bullets and the blood and the fire. A roar of pain and his father is pitching forward as well, and there is some other man standing there helping up mother and son, but the boy’s father has fallen and won’t get up again, blood staining his blond hair and dirty skin red. Someone is screaming, and the boy realizes it’s him, he’s screaming as the strange man picks him up and runs, supporting his weeping mother and the boy screams and screams and screams himself awake._

Fili lurched up, panting, echoes of gunfire fading gradually. He tugged and tore at the sheets as he stumbled over to the balcony and wrenched the door open. Fili's heartbeat calmed somewhat at the cold air, and he took a deep breath as he leaned against the railing, watching the lights underneath him. For a long while he just stood there, underneath the watchful stars, heart hammering and sweat making his clothes stick to his skin. He felt sick, memories of bombs and fire and dust making him shudder.

The war was far from won, but now he was on the front line.


	3. Playing the Role

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Training, and the interviews.

Kili awoke with a churning stomach and a dry mouth. He barely managed to roll out of bed before vomiting all over the plush carpet, and was still retching weakly when Dwalin barrelled into the room. His mentor leaned down immediately to help Kili up, wiping the dark bangs from the tribute’s sweaty forehead.

His voice was surprisingly gentle when he spoke. “Hey, laddie, you’re all right, it’s just the food, too much Capitol food, you’ll be fine,” he murmured soothingly as he half-carried Kili into the bathroom and carefully helped him under the shower. “Just wash up and come to breakfast, lad. You’ll be fine.”

Kili nodded gratefully, steadying himself against the shower wall as his knees shook. Dwalin gave a small smile and left, loud footsteps fading slowly. Kili took a deep breath before pushing himself away from the cool tiles and undressing before starting a warm shower. He was still feeling queasy, but the shower helped somewhat.

The carpet had already been cleaned again by the silent servants he had spotted around the place, so he changed into loose clothes for training and went down for breakfast. It was a grim and silent affair, with a concerned Dwalin watching as Kili ate as little as possible so as not to upset his stomach again. The huge man let the tributes finish before he spoke. “You sure you’ll be alright, laddie?” he asked gruffly.

Kili nodded, smiling weakly to reassure Dwalin. “I have to go. I need the training, and I need to let the other tributes see what I can do. I can’t miss out just because of this.”

“Fine.” Dwalin looked only slightly disapproving. “But you’ll be resting whenever you aren’t at the Training Centre, until you’ve fully recovered.” He turned to Kili’s fellow tribute. “What about you, missus? You’ll be all right?”

The girl jumped at the words and blinked, as if unsure if she was being addressed. “I'd like to think so.” She huffed. “I'm not planning on collapsing or anything." Dwalin gave her a small smile. She was regaining her pride and her composure bit by bit, slowly recovering from the shock and the fear. Kili was saddened by the thought that she might not live to enjoy it.

“Let’s talk about your strengths,” Dwalin decided, “and your strategies. Planned anything yet?"

The girl spoke first. Her voice was thin and reedy, and after her first outburst, her eyes wouldn’t meet Dwalin’s, but she spoke firmly. “I don’t really have any strengths those might be useful. I guess I’ll try to learn what I can, right? I’m a quick learner. I’ll run and hide and let everyone else kill each other. I'll try my hand at the food and camouflage stations, just… you know… so I have a chance.” The rest went unspoken. _A chance._ _At least until I stand eye-to-eye with another tribute._

Kili cleared his throat. Strengths. Skills. “Archery. A bit of sword fighting, hunting, and gathering. I don’t think I should rely on any alliances; I’ll try to take a look at the plants and camouflage stations. Archery should remain a surprise, a kind of secret weapon, but maybe I can brush up on my sword work.” Kili’s stomach clenched at his own words. He sounded like a Career _._  He sounded like he might live while the girl next to him was ready to die. He felt guilty for rubbing her nose in it, but they all knew it already. She wouldn't make it. Kili might get lucky.

 

Kili straightened up and pulled his shoulders back as the elevator doors slid open smoothly. Most of the tributes had yet to arrive at the Training Centre, and the few who were already there were gathered around a stout, dark-haired woman. Thorin and Tauriel were immersed in conversation with Fili and two others, but as Kili approached the cluster of tributes, Fili excused himself and strode over.

“You look pale.” The blond greeted the younger tribute, frowning. “Everything alright?”

Kili was taken aback by Fili’s concerned tone and blinked, surprised, before hurrying to reply. “I’m fine, it’s just… the make-up, it made me look less pale than usual.”

“You sure? You don’t look fine to me.”

“I’m great,” Kili insisted, reminding himself that _we might have to kill each other, don't befriend him at any cost._

The concern didn’t fade from Fili’s eyes, but he seemed to realize that Kili wasn't going to give him a straight answer, and simply nodded and patted the brunet on the shoulder before sauntering over to Thorin and Tauriel again. Kili stood frozen, staring after him. Why the hell was Fili being so _nice?_

 

Kili was surprised to find that he enjoyed training. Fili kept finding excuses to talk to him during short breaks. Conversation flowed easily, and Kili enjoyed the blond's company. Young Bilbo Baggins was good fun as well, but their talks were stilted, the upcoming games hanging over them like a dark cloud.

The actual training was  almost as good. He was disappointed at having to keep off the archery range, but the stations were generally good fun. Sword-fighting and hand-to-hand combat, knots and edible plants, camouflage and knife-throwing, Kili found delight in the strict training regime, feeling a perverse satisfaction at the thought that he did, in fact, have the ability to take someone's life. But even as the thought occurred, his gut twisted at the very idea.

As Kili was taking a quick break, he used the opportunity to watch the other tributes carefully. Bilbo was quite obviously excelling at the edible plants section, and Kili had also seen him at the sword-fighting station. Bilbo learnt surprisingly quickly and was unusually determined for a District 11 tribute to have some kind of prowess with weapons.

Azog was over on the opposite side of the room, almost sweeping off his partner’s head with violent blows of his mace. He was a huge brute of a man, with thick scars tracing down his face and disappearing under his t-shirt. Kili wondered where he’d got them but quickly decided that he was too afraid to ask.

Thorin Oakenshield was every bit as deadly and elegant with a sword as he was without. Kili had seen that he was ghastly with a bow, but when he was fighting with a sword or an axe he seemed to be in his element. As far as Kili had seen, Thorin was just as apt at the food stations as he was with a sword. Did this man have _no_ weaknesses?

Tauriel had only left the archery station to go throw some knives since entering the Training Center. She was brilliant at both, and Kili knew she was trying to impress, hoping for possible alliances. Perhaps she would completely forget any other training. Kili doubted it, but if she did, he could exploit that.

He blushed as he spotted Fili. The blond's shirt was clinging tightly to his body, muscles shifting underneath the cloth as he moved. He had his hair pulled in an untidy bun, a few blond strands escaping to dance loosely around his face.

He was swinging his axe with a natural grace, driving his combatant back swiftly and parrying the few strikes she managed to aim at him in between a flurry of blows. Kili would be lying if he said that he didn’t enjoy watching Fili. The tall blond was, quite frankly, beautiful; all golden hair and laughing eyes that could grow cold and flinty in a matter of seconds. Kili had to admit that that dimpled smile just _did_ things to him, and watching him fight felt like a privilege. Thorin Oakenshield was just as good, maybe even better, but Fili was simply more beautiful, his weapons becoming part of him as he dealt out blow after graceful blow.

Realizing he was staring, Kili hurriedly went back to his own training, not even noticing Fili’s eyes on him.

 

Kili twisted the cloth of his shirt between his fingers nervously as the room started to empty. If this performance went wrong, his chances of survival would be lessened drastically. He was good with a bow, he knew it. Even Dwalin said so, though praise did not generally fall easily from the warrior’s lips. But what if he wasn’t good enough? After Tauriel, would the Gamemakers find his performance even slightly interesting? He needed something _good,_ something _spectacular_ , but his mind was completely blank. He wasn’t spectacular, no matter in which costumes Dori stuck him, no matter how long he trained. He wasn’t the type, he was all for quick and practical, didn’t like to waste time on unnecessary dramatics. But what would the Gamemakers even want to see? Did they want a dramatic show of skill or should he just be quick and quiet, deadly and swift?

 _Deadly._ That was what Dwalin had said he should aim for. That was what Dori had said he should aim for. _Deadly._ But he wasn’t deadly, was he? He couldn’t even think about killing someone without cringing. He wondered if the other tributes had similar qualms. Certainly not Azog, but what about Thorin, Fili and Tauriel? He had the feeling that while not one of them were completely comfortable with the thought, they would all be able to pull it through once the time came. Perhaps they’d even enjoy it, the power they had over another's life. Not like Kili, who didn’t trust himself to kill someone once he'd looked them in the eye.

Kili’s head jerked up as his name was called, his mouth going dry immediately. He felt shaky as he stood, wiping his hands off on his pants. With a last glance at the District 12 girl, who gave him a thumbs-up and a weak smile that he returned, he slipped through the door.

The room was large, with a large weapons rack on one side and dummies, targets and punching bags at the opposite wall. Kili inclined his head politely at the seemingly disinterested Gamemakers before striding over to the rack.

At first he was tempted to reach for the sword, before deciding that the Gamemakers had seen enough of his sword-fighting over the past few days. His hand closed around a beautiful, short bow, strongly curved, and a quiver full of straight arrows. He drew a finger along the wood and carefully pulled the string back to his ea, getting a feel for it. Grinning, he took a step forward and notched an arrow before looking up at the Gamemakers. Only a few were actually watching him, the rest were murmuring among each other, not even glancing at the lone tribute in the middle of the room. Kili frowned. That wouldn’t do.

Biting his lip in concentration, he took careful aim at one of the sandbags before pulling the bowstring back to his ear and releasing it smoothly. It severed the string holding up the sandbag easily and it fell with a resounding crash. Kili heard small noises of surprise as every single Gamemaker turned towards him. Good. He took another arrow and shot three more at the targets, the arrows so close together in the centre of the target that they seemed to turn into one.

The next few shots were aimed at a dummy, one arrow striking its heart, the next two its skull and one in the stomach. There was one arrow left in the quiver. Kili took a deep breath before moving back to the weapons rack and picking a new bow. He came forward again and notched the last arrow, aiming it at a new target. He felt the strain in his arm as he pulled the bowstring back, the string tighter than anything he had ever experienced before. He didn’t know if it would work, but if it _did_ , his score would be incredible.

When he couldn’t hold the bowstring back any longer, he let the arrow fly. It struck the target with a resounding _crack._ Kili had hoped that the arrow would pierce the wood completely. But the material was apparently too good for that. Instead, the target swayed, tottered, and fell with a _crash_.

Kili tried to blink away his surprise and arrange his face in a smug smile instead before turning to the Gamemakers. One or two sat open-mouthed, most of the others were nodding, seemingly satisfied.

“You may leave,” a woman said, and Kili inclined his head once more and left, placing both bow and quiver back on the rack as he left.

That had gone surprisingly well.

 

Dinner was a silent, grim affair, although Dori at least tried to keep up relentless chatter. With Smaug at the table, talk was generally discouraged, but today nobody, except the two designers, was inclined to conversation.

After dinner, the group moved to the living room to see the scores. Kili’s gut clenched as the anthem played before Thranduil gave a quick, overly-joyful speech to announce just how _exciting_ this year’s game would be, and how _closely matched_ everyone was. Kili was fidgeting nervously, fingers trembling. The scores weren’t the most important thing, but a good score always attracted sponsors.

Thorin Oakenshield came up first, looking grim and imposing as ever. A big 10 flashed next to him and Dwalin frowned. "He's dangerous, that one," he grunted.

Kili nodded, biting his lip anxiously. “A lot of them are.”

The other careers came up with an 8 or a 9, except for Fili, who had tied with Thorin. Most of the others scored a 4 or a 5, and Dwalin let out a low curse as Azog Pale’s 7 was announced. Kili knew what he was thinking. Azog was dangerous, more so than his score let on. His ruthlessness was inhuman, unpredictable. There was no telling how far he would go to win.

Tauriel came up with a 9, and Kili knew immediately that her plan, for one, had worked. The Careers would no doubt jump at the chance of getting her on their side.

Bilbo, to everybody’s surprise, managed to get a 7, which was quite excellent considering his age and size. Kili wondered what he had done, and if perhaps the soft little boy was more dangerous than he appeared to be.

Kili’s stomach was roiling as his face came up. _Please,_ he prayed. _Please give me a good score._ To be honest, he did think it would be deserved; his archery wasn't at all bad, and he knew it.

The large number 8 appeared and Kili breathed out a sigh of relief. 8 was good. It could have been better, but 8 was good. Of course he couldn’t hope to trump Fili Durin and Thorin Oakenshield, but a higher score than at least Tauriel would have been nice.

The faces and numbers faded from the screen and the camera cut back to Thranduil smoothly.

“Would you look at that, my dear viewers! Looks like there’s going to be quite a competition! Most surprising, I have to say, especially young Bilbo Baggins with the highest score of District 11 yet, and Kili Disson, with the same score as Dwalin Fundin ten years ago!” Kili looked over at Dwalin, who gave a nod and a small, proud smile. “We’ll see if District 12 is as successful this year as they were back then!”

Kili frowned. He had never expected to actually be such a sensation. But here he was, with the same score as Dwalin, discussed more than Azog, or Tauriel, or Bilbo, who were all at least as impressive as him.

“It’s the looks.” Dwalin rumbled as if he had read Kili’s thoughts. “The looks and that bloody costume. Forget Azog, forget Tauriel and Bilbo. They’re nowhere _near_ as striking as you.”

Kili had to smile at the pride in Dwalin’s voice. “Thanks, Dori. For that amazing costume.”

Dori beamed. “Oh, you’re welcome, lad.”

Onscreen, Thranduil was still talking. “Tauriel Silvan and Azog Pale are also serious competition for the stars of the season: Fili Durin and Thorin Oakenshield. They seem to be unable to do anything wrong, and my, if aren't we excited to see which of them will come out of that arena!”

Kili frowned. From the sound of it, most of the Capitol citizens didn’t believe anybody else to have a chance. Fili and Thorin were just too _good._

As Thranduil turned to discuss the scores with some guest of honour in the studio, Dwalin grabbed the remote and turned the television off.

“Well,” he said, sounding as if he didn’t quite know what to think, a sentiment that Kili, at the moment, shared. “Well.”

 

Thorin had it up to _here_ with his Designer and his Mentor. He had thought the Hunger Games, while not easy, would be relatively straightforward: fight or die. But, as it turned out, it was much more complicated than that, and Thorin wasn’t sure if he liked that. While not stupid, Thorin was a fighter, not a strategist, often rash, but brave in the field and determined. He wasn’t good at making people like him. According to Balin he didn’t have to be _likeable_ just _convincing,_ but Thorin knew that likeable was what he should be aiming for.

The moment he could, he crept away for a well-earned break (he wasn’t hiding; Thorin Oakenshield didn’t hide). For a moment, he debated the buttons in the lift, considering where to go. He couldn’t go out, he knew that, and the actual Training Centre was probably locked. Even if it weren’t, who should he train with? It took him a while before he remembered Balin talking about the roof, how nice it was up there. Making up his mind, Thorin pressed (punched, his mother would have said) the button labelled R and felt his stomach drop as the lift swooped upwards.

The doors pinged open and Thorin stepped out onto the rooftop. It _was_ actually quite nice. The air was pleasantly warm up here, the soft tinkle of wind chimes carrying over from a roof garden to Thorin’s left. Thorin walked to the edge of the roof and leaned on the railing, looking down at the proud city below.

“Why, why, why, if it isn’t Thorin Oakenshield.” Came a voice from behind him. Thorin spun around, cursing himself. If he couldn’t even hear someone approaching here, how was he supposed to manage in the arena?

Little Bilbo Baggins stood behind him, grinning wildly, sun reflecting in his curly hair. Thorin inclined his head stiffly, glaring at the younger tribute. Bilbo just smiled, annoyingly pleasant. “Tell me, how did you get that score?”

“How did you get yours?” Thorin retorted, feeling stupid even as he said it. What the hell was happening to him?

“Same way as you. Doing what I do best.” Bilbo came forward to lean against the railing next to Thorin, taking a deep breath of fresh air.

“What, gardening?” Thorin snorted.

Bilbo turned to look at him, giving a small chuckle before replying. “Actually, that’s a good idea, I should’ve done that.”

“You’re not going to tell me.” Thorin stated.

“I’m not stupid and I haven’t yet resigned myself to my fate, Oakenshield. I may be a Baggins, but I’m also a Took.”

Thorin raised an eyebrow, not really understanding the point Bilbo was trying to make. The small boy sighed and passed a hand over his face. “That means I’ve got an adventurous streak. Runs in the family.”

“Yeah, whatever that’s worth in the arena.” Thorin huffed, relaxing slightly against the railing.

“I think you’d be surprised.” Bilbo straightened up, staring Thorin straight in the eye. “Don’t underestimate me, Oakenshield. You and Wonder-Boy Durin aren’t the only ones who want to live.”

And with that, Bilbo strode off again, leaving a very thoughtful and thoroughly confused Thorin standing on the rooftop in the evening sun.

 

Fili picked nervously at the sleeve of his light blue dress shirt. Bifur had assured him that the colour would bring out his eyes. Fili had bitten back the question of _who_ would even see his eyes except the interviewer, instead letting Bifur braid seashells into his hair once again.

He shifted on his chair, ignoring the chilling glare of the other District 4 tribute next to him. He felt more than a bit self-conscious next to her in her glamorous, glittery gown. The fabric reminded him of the sun breaking through waves to throw dappled light on the sandy ocean floor. It was perfect, and she looked beautiful in it.

More and more tributes joined the already assembled group backstage, Fili watching every single one carefully. Then Kili entered the room and Fili’s heart stopped. The brunet looked breathtaking in a well-tailored black suit, his shirt a deep red and flame patterns licking up the suit jacket. His dark hair was held back with a clasp at the back, and the make-up made his eyes gleam and glitter from within the shadows, giving him a dark, dangerous air.

Fili was long past denying it: Kili was definitely the most attractive man he had ever met. It didn’t hurt if Fili thought that way, as long as he didn’t let it get in the way of his performance. It was as easy as that.

“Hey.” Came a smooth voice from his left. Fili jumped. He hadn’t noticed Kili approaching, too lost in his own thoughts. He smiled at the younger.

“Hi.” There was a comfortable silence before Fili spoke up again. “You look great.”

Kili grinned, an easy, beautiful grin. “Thanks, same to you.”

Fili chuckled and Kili ducked his head, scuffing his shoe against the ground. “Nervous?”

“Very,” Fili replied truthfully. He didn’t know what it was, but it was so easy to talk to Kili, so easy to open up to him. “I’d rather be thrown into the arena naked than go out there.”

Kili threw his head back and laughed, a sound that made Fili’s heart _ache._ “I don’t think anyone would be averse to that.”

Fili flushed bright red and shoved Kili as the younger kept giggling. “You blush nicely,” Kili remarked, poking the blond’s cheek in a friendly manner.

“Stop it,” Fili whined, attempting to push away Kili’s hand.

“No way.” The younger laughed. “It’s adorable.”

Fili caught Kili’s hand and looked at him, meeting his smile and chuckling. “Kili Disson, you are going to be the _end_ of me.”

They were interrupted by the anthem blaring outside and a cheer from the crowd as Thranduil Elvenking strode onto the stage, bowing and smiling. Backstage, the tributes were pushed and prodded until they were in the right place, and then the curtain rose to reveal a large stage and, beyond that, a crowd of chattering people. Screens were built up here and there, and Fili could see the camera sweeping over the row of tributes, their faces flitting over the canvas before disappearing. There was a podium behind them, and as soon as the cheers ended, the tributes turned to walk up the stairs to the twenty-four seats set up there. Fili sat, between the girl from 3 and the girl from 4, feeling queasy as he watched the scene before him: the cameras, the crowd, the two chairs only a short distance away, one of them occupied by _the_ Entertainer and Interviewer Supreme, Thranduil Elvenking.

Thranduil was a tall, lithe man with long, silver-blond hair, probably dyed, judging by the colour of his thick eyebrows. He had a smooth, handsome face and a voice that was just _made_ for Capitol TV. Fili felt his stomach lurch as the girl from 1 stood and made her way down to the chair. How was he supposed to keep his facade when he was this nervous?

 _Home_ , he reminded himself. _Think of home._ But images of Kili rose unbidden to his mind, Kili’s laugh, Kili’s warm eyes, the way his hair hung into his face, his long-fingered hands. Fili slowed his breathing and finally he could concentrate on the girl who was leaving the stage, making way for Thorin, the older tribute effortlessly graceful in a simple suit with jewels strung out tastefully across the jacket.

There was a roar of applause as Thorin sat elegantly and nodded at the crowd. Thranduil smiled, shook his hand before settling back into his chair.

“So, Thorin, let’s talk about your score. You were one of the highest-scoring tributes, and the betting is going strong with you and Fili Durin leading the fray. What do you think are your chances of winning?”

Thorin cleared his throat and leaned forward slightly, probably considering how to best answer that question. Silence fell, and Fili caught himself shifting forward slightly, curious.

Fili paid attention during the interviews, trying to gather what he could about the others’ personalities, their strengths and their weaknesses. _“Everything must serve a purpose.”_ His old mentor had taught him. _“Everything must be another step towards victory. Everything must serve the cause, Fili. Don’t forget that.”_

And Fili didn’t forget it, but instead sat there, watching, observing, waiting, already hunting. When Thranduil announced him he had to shake himself out of the haze he had fallen into, giving a confident smirk as he strode down the stairs. His heart was pounding again, but the thought of Kili, his voice and his eyes, kept him at least moderately calm.

Thranduil’s hand was cool when he shook it, Fili sinking down into the soft plush chair as Thranduil sat as well. There was an occasional whoop or whistle from the crowd as Thranduil cleared his throat, beginning to speak.

“So, Fili, what do you have to say about your spectacular score? Care to share any details?”

Fili’s throat was dry. _Play your role,_ he thought to himself. _Play your role._

“Well, there’s room for improvement.” Fili smiled, pleased to hear a few chuckles from the audience.

“That there is. Well, Fili, you’re from District 4, do you miss your home?”

“It isn't so bad, I guess. It's nice not to have sand everywhere, and washing all the salt off has been a relief, but it's different. Strange, somehow. Also, there's so little fish, why do you eat so little fish?"

“Why indeed, Fili Durin?” Thranduil smiled. “Tell me, is there anyone you left behind, anyone you are determined to return to?”

Fili shrugged. “My mum, I guess. But she’d come and box my ears if I didn’t come back, so I guess I’ll have to manage.”

“There’s no... girlfriend?” Thranduil asked, pausing deliberately to give the scene some extra suspense. Fili grinned brightly. _Play your role._ “Nah, I’m free for taking. There’s no-one warring for my affections.”

“Well, aren’t we all glad to hear that!” Thranduil chuckled, approving cheers and whistles sounding from the audience. Fili glanced at the screen, wishing that he could see Kili right now. But, of course, the camera was fixed on his own face, stupid dimples and all.

“You, Fili, are one of the most promising tributes.” Thranduil continued smoothly. “Care to share with us a few of your strategies?”

 _I’m going to pretend to be all nice and stab them all in the back when they aren’t looking,_ Fili thought to himself, but instead just raised his eyebrows. “Isn’t that supposed to be a secret?” He questioned teasingly.

Thranduil gave a small laugh. “Oh, come one. You’re no fun!”

Fili shrugged. “Sorry, no can do. Wouldn’t want the others to gain an unfair advantage, would we?”

To his surprise, the other tributes behind him spoke up. “Aww, c’mon!” he heard Kili’s voice clearly, and a few of the others joined in.

 “Spill the beans, Durin!”

 “Forget unfair advantage, we want to _know_!”

 _Now_ the camera swerved to Kili, and Fili had to smile at the impish grin on the brunet’s face. There were a few titters from the audience as Thranduil motioned for the other tributes to calm down. Fili grinned, and after that, the interview just went that much easier. He started to enjoy it, feeling almost disappointed when the buzzer sounded and his time in the spotlight was over.

He watched the others carefully, but none with as much interest as Kili. Kili’s impish grin was gone, replaced by a dangerous, self-confident smirk. Kili was also playing a role, and he was playing it _well._ Gone was the funny, impulsive boy Fili had thought to know, replaced by a shadow, dark and lethal. Fili couldn’t help but think what a shame it was. Kili could have captured the heart of the Capitol without even putting on an act, yet his mentor seemed to insist upon it. But then again, Kili didn’t have to capture their hearts; he had to capture their _support_ , and maybe this really was the best way to go about it.

Still, Fili couldn’t help feeling sick as he watched this version of Kili playing for the cameras. What if he hadn’t met the real Kili himself? What if all their conversations over the past few days had just been a means to get Fili to like the younger? If he was just acting all nice for the sake of victory? Fili didn’t even want to think about it.

But as the curtain fell and Kili came over to him, those thoughts faded to the back of his mind.

“That,” Kili ran a hand through his dark hair, letting out a slow breath, “was the scariest thing I’ve ever done.”

Fili chuckled, ducking his head. “Never again.” He agreed. Kili nodded, wide-eyed. “My heart is almost jumping out of my chest, feel.” The brunet grabbed Fili’s hand and placed it right over his heart. Fili felt it racing underneath his hand.

Fili nodded, pulling an exaggerated impressed- face. “Not bad."He admitted without removing his hand. Only when Kili stepped back to make his way towards the elevators did Fili let his hand drop to his side again.

Fili could still remember the heat of Kili’s skin through his shirt as they stood next to each other in comfortable silence. The door opened at the 4th floor and Kili gave the older a last smile and a soft ‘good-night’ before they closed again and Fili was left alone in the corridor. It didn’t matter if Kili was play-acting, Fili decided. He would take what he could.


	4. This Isn't A Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Okay, NOW the Games begin. For real this time.

Kili couldn’t sleep. Despite the soft bed, despite the warm air, despite the silence, Kili couldn’t sleep. He was restless, tossing and turning, unable to put his mind to rest. He _needed_ to sleep, it was vital he be well-rested tomorrow. Who knew when he would be able to sleep again? Who knew if he would ever get to wake up again?

Finally, Kili gave up. Throwing on a loose shirt, he left the room and made his way to the stairs leading up to the roof. The door creaked when he opened it and padded out into the open. The air was pleasantly warm, light from the city lending a soft glow to the night. The distant sounds of revelling crowds drifted up from the streets, and the mountains stood like dark sentries on the horizon.

Another tribute was already standing at the railing, dressed in loose pyjama pants, torso bare. The light painted his smooth skin with soft colours as he stood there, looking out over the city. Kili was about to turn and head back to his room when he recognized the other. He smiled as he walked towards the silent figure, admiring the fall of golden hair over his broad shoulders.

“Hey.” He greeted, smiling as Fili turned towards him. He joined the older tribute by the railing, sighing as he leaned against it.

“Hi,” Fili’s voice was soft, warm, and careful, “What’re you doing here?”

“Couldn’t sleep.” Kili replied, his own voice feeling rough and husky in comparison. “You?”

“Same.” Fili rubbed his eyes and gave a small, adorable yawn. “It’s a good place to think.”

Kili chuckled. “You don’t seem like the person to think much,” he teased. “You seem more like the person to bash peoples’ heads in.”

Fili gave a small snort. “Yeah, well, I’m up here to think about how best to bash people’s heads in.”

“Fair enough.” Kili replied. For a while, they simply stood next to each other, neither willing to break the warm, sleepy silence that had settled over them. Kili stood close enough to the blond to feel the faint warmth emanating from him, and it gave him the urge to cuddle up to the other and fall asleep like that, safe in the Fili's arms.

Without any conversation to distract him, his thoughts drifted back to the arena and what awaited him tomorrow. Though the summer air was warm, he started to shiver slightly; what would his mother feel like if he died? Would his sister even survive the loss of another family member or would she decide to leave their mother alone? Kili felt tears prick his eyes at the thought.

“Hey, you alright?” Fili’s voice broke through his thoughts. _Shit,_ Kili thought to himself. He couldn’t let Fili see any weakness, not with the Games looming so close.

“Fine.” Kili replied, hoping his voice didn’t sound as reedy as it felt. He could see Fili frown as the blond reached out to put a hand over Kili’s.

“You’re shivering.” The other stated.

Kili shook his head. “It’s just cold.”

“No, that isn’t it.” Fili replied quietly, but left it at that, although he didn’t move his hand away. The warm roughness of the older tribute’s palm just served to make Kili even more teary. There was another long silence, Kili trying his best not start crying, shoulders shaking ever so slightly as he held back the tears. Fili spoke up again, and Kili was glad for the distraction.

“I’m scared.” The blond admitted softly. Kili was grateful that he didn’t add _too_. He hated it when people assumed to know what he was thinking.

“I’m scared for my family,” Fili continued, “scared for my own life... I was raised to be a tribute, you know. It was all I ever wanted. And now I just want to go back to my old life, fishing and weaving nets and helping my mother around the house. My earlier mentor always taught me not to care, not about anyone. Said it was a weakness. And I managed, I managed to bottle it all up, the affection, the kindness, everything. And now, just when it’d be important to stay disconnected, I start caring. You, Bofur... I’m starting to care and it’s terrifying.”

Kili stayed silent for a while, considering his reply carefully.

“I know.” He whispered finally, slowly, carefully. “I’m frightened. I didn’t want this, none of it. I don’t know what to do, if to fight or just give up, lay down and die. And I’m just so scared for my family... my mother and my sister...” Kili didn’t know why he was telling Fili this. He didn’t even dare tell himself the straightforward truth. Maybe he was whispering it to the night, the moon hanging heavy and grief-stricken in the sky, the silent mountain wardens in the distance. “I don’t know how long she’ll be able to hold on if I die. I don’t know if my mother will be able to cope, all alone. I don’t know, and it frightens me. I just... I never wanted any of this and I wish it were over.”

Fili bit his lip, letting Kili’s words trail off the banister and fall amidst the cheering crowd below, trampled to dust by fancy shoes. Now the silence was comforting, wrapping both of them up in a warm embrace, listening, holding its breath until they had finished.

“There are fewer stars here.” Kili finally said, hushed, as if the very words could cause the night to come crashing down around his ears.

“I know.” Fili replied. “The night feels colder without them.”

“There would always be so many stars back at home.” Kili sighed wistfully. “During the day, the air would be dusty, especially near the mines, but in the night, when everyone fell asleep, the dust would settle, making way for the clearest, cleanest air you could imagine, and the stars would appear behind layers of choking coal powder. Glow-worms would come out, dance around with the dust motes those were slowly falling to the ground, and finally, finally you could breathe. The air is warm and heavy in District 12, choking you on warmer days, but in the nights, breathing feels like flying.”

Fili smiled at Kili’s reverent tone. He could imagine it, the cool air, the stillness of the night in District 12. It awakened a surprising pang of homesickness to hear Kili speak of it so tenderly, as if the words could break.

“What’s it like in District 4? I’ve only ever known home...” Kili’s hushed words disintegrated and were swept away with the soft breeze. Fili smiled and closed his eyes, calling up the pictures before his mind’s eye.

“Me and my mum, we live by the sea, a short distance from the main port. Lots of people have their boats there, but we don’t own one. I work on other people’s boats, and mother mends the nets when they’re torn. I work on a different boat each summer. I like the small ones better, the ones with a crew of no more than a half a dozen men. It’s lovely when you’re out of sight of land, just the sea and the boat and you. It's beautiful. There are dolphins further out, and whales, and sharks. Sometimes we pull one of them up. Mostly we throw them back in, but there are always some captains those don’t care.”

Fili felt as if he was doing a very poor job of describing his home to Kili. How could he describe what it meant to him, how could you describe what the ocean was, _really_ was, to someone who'd never seen it? He took a deep breath and continued anyway. “It’s warm, most of the time, and no matter where you are, you can always hear the sea. District 4 is strung out across the shoreline, and the city is large and airy. There are seagulls everywhere, and some people tame them. They aren’t really useful, they’re just... pets, I guess. And when you’re lying in your bed, no matter if you’re at home or out in the boat, the sea sings you to sleep.”

Kili hummed and Fili fell silent, the pictures and sounds brought on by his words fading. The brunet spoke. “Not hard to imagine why you can’t sleep here,” He smiled, “I wouldn’t be able to, either.”

“Yeah, it is a bit...” Fili tried to find the words. “ Does it sound weird when I say _too quiet?”_

Kili chuckled. “Nah, I get it.”

“Hmm.” Fili sighed, then turned to go. He waited for a moment, lingering, looking at Kili as if there was some mystery about him to unravel.

“I kind of like you... Disson.” The blond smiled faintly. “I hope... I hope someone else kills you.”

And there it was again, the shadow, dark and heavy on Kili’s shoulders. He fought to make his tone teasing. “Don’t like me enough to wish me victory, huh, Durin?”

Fili didn’t even chuckle, just looked at Kili with pain in those clear blue eyes. “This isn’t a game.” He finally replied. And then Kili was alone.

 

Dori helped Kili into his clothes, frowning as he handed Kili a thick rain jacket. The trousers were military green, loose to allow movement and the boots were thick, reaching over his ankles. “Hiking boots.” Dori remarked as he passed them to Kili. “From the clothes, I guess it’ll be mountain terrain.”

Kili nodded, just vaguely registering the words. He felt strangely removed from everything, as if his heartbeat had slowed and left him lazily swimming through syrup. Mindless terror twisted Kili’s gut, his lungs shaking at each intake of breath. Dori pressed the smooth stone Kili’s mother had given him into the brunet’s palm, and Kili’s fingers closed around it, finding comfort in the glassy surface and the scratched runes. He pocketed it, feeling the reassuring weight of it in his jacket pocket.

Dori stretched out his hand and Kili shook it. The Stylists skin was smooth and soft, unnaturally so. Kili knew his own hand was sweaty and disgusting. He had gloves, thin, woollen ones in his jacket pocket, but he had elected to leave them there for the moment.

Dori smiled sadly. “It’s been an honour to know you, Kili.” He said softly. The flickering lights sent strange shadows dancing over his silver hair. “Good luck. Take care of yourself. Remember, survival is more important than killing off other contestants. Try not to risk too much, a fire isn’t worth an arrow in the neck. Take care of your clothes; they’re the only ones you’ve got. Now go out there and win.”

Kili smiled. He was surprised by how fond he had become of the silver-haired stylist. Dori's work had been truly amazing, and he would miss his smile and endless chatter when he was in the arena without another soul to talk to. He wondered vaguely if he’d go insane before he was killed, or if maybe someone would murder him in his sleep. He wondered if it’d be painful, and how his mother would feel when his stiff, cold body was delivered back to District 12. He wished he could have said goodbye to Dwalin, and talked with Fili at least once more.

Dori’s voice brought him back to the dusty, dim room beneath the arena. “Goodbye, Kili.”

Kili felt his heart rise up to block his windpipe. “Goodbye, Dori.” He whispered back, drawing the short, rotund man into a hug. Kili relaxed into the firm warmth of the stylist’s arms, knowing full well that the next human being to touch him would either kill him or be killed. The shadow that had been hanging over him for days had fallen.

 

Kili blinked in the sudden light, trying to focus on what was in front of him. He looked around as the platform beneath his feet jerked to a halt. A magnified voice blared loudly, shaking his insides so he thought he might vomit.

“Ladies and Gentlemen, let the fourteenth Hunger Games begin!” the voice announced, and Kili fought past the dizziness to gather his bearings.

Sixty seconds. His heart was pounding in his chest. He closed his eyes, trying to calm his breathing. They were down to the last ten seconds already.

_Ten_

_Nine_

Blue sky, cloudless, perfect. It was cool, but not uncomfortably so. The air was fresh, like in the forest around District 12.

_Eight_

_Seven_

The ground was rocky, interspersed with a few rough patches of hardy grass. When Kili twisted to look back, he could see a steep drop behind him, and a small, hard-trod earth path leading over the edge. A mountain. The Cornucopia was at the very peak of a mountain. The hiking boots made sense now.

_Six_

_Five_

They were piled up before him, heaps of bags and weapons and rolls and sacks. He was a fast runner. Dwalin had ordered him to grab a weapon and run, picking up as much as possible on the way out. Kili fixated on a broad sword at the edge of the pile. He’d grab that and run straight through. He was confident that he could face almost anyone in close combat, and as long as no-one managed to grab a bow or throwing knife, it'd be safe enough.

_Four_

_Three_

He spotted a bow on the top of the pile, but he knew that he couldn’t risk it. There was the tip of another one peeking out from between a few sacks, but it would be ages until he could even drag it out. The Girl from 12 stood next to him, taught as a bowstring, frail but determined. From her eyes, Kili could see that she was looking to flee. Well, she quite obviously had more sense than him. Kili could also make out Fili, broad, strong, ready to run, hair tied up in a neat ponytail. He wished Fili would look at him, one last moment of friendship before the Games really began.

_Two_

_One_

Kili ran. He ran towards his goal, easily outstripping other contestants with large, smooth strides. He had years of practice on him, years of training regime with Dwalin and hunting in the woods, and he was at the pile and picking up the sword before he realized it, snatching up a large black backpack as well as he sprinted past. He heard footsteps to his right and swung his sword at the tribute approaching from behind him. The boy gave a strangled sort of gasp as the blade lodged just below his ribcage and was yanked free again. Kili kept running, feeling bile rise up in his throat at the gargling sound from behind him. He lifted the backpack, the unexpected weight slowing him down momentarily, and hoisted it up on his back as he rounded the cornucopia and headed for the edge of the mountain side.

He skidded to a halt as Fili appeared before him, a dagger clutched in each hand. He looked up at the blond, at his wide blue eyes, at his arm poised to throw. Their breathing was identically fast, the terrified expression on Fili’s face matching the brunet’s. Then, quickly, the blond turned away, turned from Kili, and Kili ran. He ran without thinking, without stopping, not even when an arrow grazed his leg, tearing the trouser leg and cutting into his thigh. He reached the edge of the plateau and half-ran, half-fell down the steep slope.

With the sounds of the bloodbath still ringing in his ears, Kili stopped for a moment to gather his bearings, taking in the area. The scraggly, scratchy bushes were just as brown as the rocks, lending the mountainside a deserted, harsh look, as if it was purposefully trying to shake off any life. Here and there a small patch of flowers shone through the drab colours, and he could see small line of green vegetation, like scars among the rock, where streams ran down the mountainside. Kili took a few seconds to catch his breath, before he set off down the mountain towards the lush pine forest stretching into the distance below.

Soon he found a path, small and steep, but nevertheless better than making his way through the undergrowth. The path even ran by a small spring, the stream bubbling merrily down into the valley. It was there that Kili sat down in the cover of some bushes and zipped open his bag to see what he had managed to take.

He was lucky, he supposed. The bag had almost anything he could hope for: a sleeping bag, rope, wire, those strange purifying tablets for water, two empty flasks, a box with crackers and bread, fishing hooks and a line, and even a small knife in a leather sheath. Kili drank his fill at the stream before filling the flasks up to the brim. He felt better than he had since Dori had led him into that dim underground room, the sun and fresh air working wonders.

After a while, he decided to follow the stream down into the forest. It wasn't a long trek, but it was steep, and there weren't any places to hide, so Kili's wariness didn't fade until he had reached the outskirts of the forest and ducked into the shadows between the trees.

He had to smile despite himself. The Games could begin.

 

After the bloodbath was over, Fili stood looking out over the arena. The slopes of the mountain fell steeply, met by the flat plain of the emerald forest. The mountain was much too perfect, the transition from rocks to forest much too smooth, to be real. A large river cut a shining scar through the forest beneath, winding through the grasslands beyond the forest before ending in a lake in the middle distance.

Thorin came to stand beside him, his presence quiet and commanding. “You’d better get over there, Durin,” he said, his voice smooth and deep, “or the others'll snatch all the weapons.”

“Yeah.” Fili swept his gaze over the landscape one last time before turning away. “I’d better.”

He managed to find a pair of twin swords and a sheath that he slung over his back, and spent the rest of the time scavenging for knives of all sizes, taking care to keep a watch on the others. An alliance may have formed, but he didn’t trust any of them.

Fili looked around one last time before joining the other tributes near the large path that led away from the cornucopia. There were only six of them left by now. The girl from 4 had died, to Fili’s surprise. He had expected her to be one of the last contestants standing. Tauriel had joined them, but otherwise the group consisted of the usual Careers; District 1, 2 and 4.

As they walked away, the cannons began to sound, cutting through the late midday air. Nine dead, Fili had counted. His steps measured them out, each of them.

District 3. District 4. District 5. District 5 again. District 8. District 9. District 9 again. District 10. District 11.

His steps measured them out, paying silent respects to those unknown people whose deaths would be glazed over in the heat of the first day.

The Career group was loud and raucous, Fili laughing and joking along with the rest. Thorin didn't even deign to talk, but the two tributes from District 2 and the girl from 1 more than made up for his silence. None of them bothered to keep their voices down, knowing full well that it was too soon after the bloodbath for anyone else to be around, and that they were in about as much danger from being attacked as the forest was in danger of flooding.

The path was broad and well-used, winding down the mountain for only a short distance before splitting up into numerous tiny little paths leading down the slopes.

“Rabbit paths.” The boy from District 2, Beorn, grinned. “All the little bunnies bounded down there, I’ll bet.”

They found a cave there, in the rock wall rising above the path. It was a bit of a climb from the pathway, and overlooked it perfectly, so one could guard the Cornucopia without much threat to their own lives.

Thorin looked around the group. By unspoken consent, he had taken on the role of the leader. “Who of you can climb?” Looking around, he answered his own question. “Durin, Silvan. Think you’re up for it?”

Tauriel nodded and stepped forward, beginning to haul herself up. Fili stayed behind to toe off his boots.

“We should kill her when she’s climbing.” District 1 Girl muttered, plucking the string of her bow in a nervous habit.  Thorin handed Fili a rope ladder they had found at the Cornucopia. It had been _intended_ for them to use the cave, the ladder wouldn't have been there otherwise. Fili didn’t know if he was reassured or scared by that.

“No, she still has some use.” Thorin’s voice was low as he watched Tauriel climb. “Wait for it. We’ll get rid of her in time.”

No, Fili thought to himself as he slung the rope over his shoulder and started climbing. He definitely wasn’t about to trust them.

 

“We stay here.” Thorin decided once the six of them had searched every nook and cranny of the cave and deemed it to be safe. “There'll be more food to be had in the valley, and all the other tributes will have scuttled off down there. But this cave is safe, there’s protection from the weather, and we can pick off any tribute that attempts to reach the Cornucopia. It’s as good a place as any, and better than most.”

The other tributes nodded in agreement. “Besides,” Tauriel added, “it isn’t as if we’re trapped up here. We can easily go down, hunt, and come back up again.”

Fili frowned. “Anyone see any water, though? The cave’s completely dry. The only water to be had may be down in the valley; I think I saw a river there.”

“We’ll check tomorrow.” Thorin decided. “It’s late, we have Cornucopia water. Tomorrow we go hunting. Both human prey and animal.”

Fili’s stomach twisted. Despite a lurking fondness for Thorin, he couldn’t help but feel the urge to drive a knife through his gut at the older tribute’s expression. Perhaps that was good. Less reason to hesitate once the time came for them to fight against each other.

“Speaking of human prey...” Thorin turned to level a glare at Fili. “What was that stunt today supposed to be, Durin?”

Fili froze, panic rising up to clog his throat. He thought nobody had seen him let Kili go, not in the fury of the bloodbath. The cameras had captured it for sure, the Capitol by now probably speculating wildly about his motives for letting the other go, but the everyone else had been fighting! It was impossible for anyone to have seen him. Fili fought down his nervousness and tried to answer calmly.

“What do you mean, Oakenshield?”

Thorin’s jaw flexed as he gritted his teeth. “You let him go. You had District 12, one of the most dangerous contestants- _the_ most dangerous contestant outside of our group- in your grasp. And you let him go.” Thorin’s face was stormy. “You BLOODY LET HIM GO!”

Fili sat up straighter. No use denying it. “I did, didn’t I?”

_Keep up your mask._

“Why?” Thorin gritted out, looking as if he wanted to strangle Fili.

“Got a certain... affection for Kili Disson?” Tauriel raised a thin eyebrow.

_Act. It’s all an act._

“We’ve talked.” Fili grasped for something else to say, anything.

“And just... talking is enough incentive for you to spare his life, even if it means risking your own?” Thorin asked suspiciously.

“I don’t care for him enough to risk my life. I _didn’t_ risk my life.”

_The best actor wins._

“Every tribute left alive is a risk to our lives. To your life.” The girl from 2 reminded. Beorn grunted in agreement.

Fili snarled at her. “Listen.” His voice was angry, burning the words to ash as they left his mouth. “He trusts me now. He’ll hesitate to hurt me. But _we won’t_. It was a trick, Oakenshield. Just a silly trick that he is going to fall perfectly for. I lied to him. From the beginning. He believes I care for him, and we can use that to our advantage. Let him run free, I say. Let him kill a few tributes of his own. And then, when he hesitates to hurt me, use those seconds to strike. _Manipulation._ That’s what this is about. He’s a Career, even if he doesn’t know it yet. And we’ll dispose of him when he’s lost his use.”

“Can you kill him yourself, though?” Thorin asked.

Fili hesitated. “I can.” he answered, not sure himself if he was saying the truth.

“Can you stand by and let others kill him without interfering?”

_Kili means nothing to you. He is the enemy._

“I won’t get in your way.”


	5. Block Them Out

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alliances form and are broken, and the Gamemakers seem set on making Kili's life hell...

The Careers woke at sunrise, to the first rays of light creeping along the cave floor. It promised to be a hot day, the air dry and warm already.

Thorin was already standing at the opening of the cave, looking out over the forest. “Mahal be merciful to those without water.” He murmured softly, almost too quietly for Fili to hear. "At least we won't have to take care of them."

The Career turned to watch the small troupe pack together, store their supplies at the back of the cave, and pick up weapons. A small, dry smile tugged at his lips.

“Ready to go hunting?” He rumbled, looking around with something almost resembling pride.

Beorn stomped past Thorin to the entrance, followed by the girl from his district. “Little bunnies don’t know what’s coming for them.” He growled.

Thorin turned to Tauriel and Fili. “Durin, you’re with us. Don’t quite trust you yet. Silvan, you're going down into the forest for the day. Get some supplies, we need fresh stuff. Kill anyone you see. _Do_ at least _try_ to get rid of Azog and Disson.”

Tauriel nodded and tightened the straps of her quiver. “You just wait. That cannon will be sounding before midday.”

Then she was gone, climbing down the cliffside nimbly before vanishing down one of the narrow paths.

 

It wasn’t long into the day when Fili began wishing that Beorn had left the group to strike out on his own instead of Tauriel. The huge tribute tried, he really did, but he was just too big and too heavy to navigate the mountainside quietly. Sometimes, Fili doubted that the bear of a man was close enough to the ground to see where he was going.

The air was fresh and clear, as it would probably always be up here, but the sun glaring down from the cloudless sky was brutally hot, and quickly made sweat bead on the back of Fili’s neck and his forehead.

Suddenly Thorin's arm shot out to stop Fili in his tracks. The blond followed Thorin's gaze, trying to make out what the older tribute had spotted. A small stream bubbled by, lined with rocks  and bushes. Fili's breath caught as he spotted a tribute crouching by the stream, filling a small waterskin. Thorin and Fili crouched, motioning for the other three to follow suit. Thorin waved the girl from 2 over, pointing in the direction of the boy. She smiled lazily, notching an arrow, and took aim. Fili's gut twisted as he watched the poor, oblivious boy. He wanted to close his eyes, but couldn't bring himself to turn away as the girl next to him released the arrow.

 

Tauriel made her way through the forest quietly. She had yet to spot a human being, but then again, she was still rather close to the mountain, and a bit too far from the lake for the more sensible youngsters to stray. But where were the stupid ones, the weak ones, those that didn’t try to get as far away from the Cornucopia and the Careers as possible?

At least her hunt for food was proving more successful. The forest was lush here, filled with edible plants and bursting with wildlife. This wasn’t exactly a difficult arena to survive in, she thought to herself, but she was sure that as soon as the Gamemakers had given them time to settle, all hell would break loose.

It was already afternoon when she noticed tracks on the forest floor, human tracks. She was still far away from the lake, surrounded by trees on all sides. There was literally no advantage to the area., which meant that the tracks were probably of a tribute passing through here, squashing the hardy grass and leaving small, yet noticeable marks on the forest floor. She followed them eagerly, an arrow nocked, wary, her blood thrumming with excitement.

Suddenly, there was a slithering sound, and something tightened around her ankle. Tauriel gave a yelp as she was dragged into the air, losing her grip on her bow as the cleverly engineered trap left her dangling from the tree. She cursed quietly and frantically twisted in the trap, ignoring the strong wire cutting into her ankle. She fished her knife out of her belt, trying to pull herself up so she could cut herself free.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” Came a voice from behind her. Tauriel snarled, only trying harder to free herself. “You’re going to kill me anyway, might as well die on the ground,” she replied breathlessly.

She had known he would take the knife from her, but she hadn’t expected him to be so gentle, carefully prying her fingers apart. She let herself dangle limply, twisting her head to look at him. It took her a moment to recognize Kili without all the Capitol make-up. _Stupid_ , scolded herself. _Stupid, stupid, stupid!_ She’d let herself be caught like one of those bunnies Beorn was so obsessed about.

With a small smile, Kili leant down and cocked his head to make eye contact with her. He looked like a curious wolf-pup with a new plaything, brown eyes wide with curiosity.

“You _trapped_ me.” Tauriel broke the silence, surprised at how insulted she sounded, as if he was merely being rude.

“You shot me.” Kili replied, not cracking a smile.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” She replied wryly, wriggling to find a more comfortable position, if there was anything comfortable about hanging upside down from a tree. “Just free me, will you? This trap of yours isn’t exactly comfortable.”

“D’you have food? Meat, I mean?” Kili asked instead, ignoring her request completely. Tauriel blinked, surprised, before regaining her composure.

“Why, can’t you hunt?” She used her baby voice on him, trying to cling to the act she had put up. Kili rolled his eyes. “Not with a sword, I can’t,” he replied as if astounded how something so obvious could escape her.

Tauriel sighed. “There’s a bow on the ground. Now run along and play- Or let me go and I can get you some dinner.”

Kili straightened up and took a step back, looking down at her with disdain. “You’re strung up on a tree and feel like you can propose an alliance? I’m just going to kill you, you know, no matter what kind of deal you propose.”

“And then you'll be completely at the mercy of the other five Careers.” Tauriel snapped.

“Five?” Kili seemed to be after every scrap of information he could get. Good.

“Oakenshield, his friend from 1, Durin, Beorn and that girl from 2 that no one remembers,” Tauriel supplied before sighing and continuing, “Listen up, if you free me, you have someone to help get food, someone to guard you while you sleep, someone to _help you survive._ We split up once there’s five or so tributes left and hope we never meet again. Voilà, everyone’s happy. Consider it, but consider it quickly. _I could help._ ”

“You’re a traitor. I can’t trust you with my life. You’ll betray me, like you're betraying the Careers.”

Tauriel sighed. “Look, Disson. I’m not stupid. I know the difference between someone who’ll slit my throat in my sleep and folk like you.”

Kili drew his sword wordlessly, frowning down at her darkly. Tauriel squirmed in the trap, fear making her heart race. His eyes were hard and steady, and she knew he wouldn't hesitate. She steeled herself as well, taking a deep breath. She wouldn’t plead. She couldn’t appear weak, not for a single moment.

“I know where the Careers are.” Her voice was level, strong. _Good_. “I know where they sleep.”

Kili paused. His face was unreadable, frozen like porcelain. Tauriel watched him, silently praying, clinging to this last thread of hope.

His sword moved in a flash, cutting through the wire of the trap easily. Tauriel fell to the ground in an unceremonious heap, scrambling up a moment later and watching as he took her bow. Sighing, she unbuckled her quiver and handed it over as he motioned for it.

“Are you sure you can handle that bow?” she asked, raising a thin eyebrow. “Wouldn’t it be more useful in my hands?”

Kili glared at her. “You’ll find me more than capable if you ever dare betray me. I swear  I’ll lodge an arrow in your throat before you can even move.”

“I don’t doubt it.” She stood up and dusted off the knees of her trousers. Kili gave a small, warm smile as he stood on his tiptoes- wow, he was _tiny_ \- to pluck out a leaf from her long red hair.

“You’ll have a hard time getting all of these out.” His lips twitched into a grin briefly , and there was a mischievous glint in his eyes as he flicked the leaf away.

Tauriel followed him between the trees, giving a small secret smile of triumph. There had been warmth in his eyes. She could bring him to care for her, and once she had done that, it would be easy to dispose of him and leave his cold body sprawled on the bloody forest floor.

 

Fili cursed as the arrow zipped narrowly past the ear of the tribute they had spotted crouched by a narrow mountain stream. Their prey jumped up, water from his half-full bottle spraying everywhere as he twisted to run. Thorin cursed as he leapt up to run after their quarry, but before he could move, Fili had pulled one of his knives from its sheath and hurled it at the hunted tribute’s back. He fell with a dull thump, giving a yell as the knife lodged into the back of his neck.

Thorin turned around, looking at Fili approvingly. “Well,” he said with finality. “That wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

Without a word, Fili stomped over to end the tribute’s misery, fighting down bile as he knelt next to the trembling youth.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered hoarsely as he bared the other’s neck. The blood felt warm on his hands, a sharp contrast to the icy horror racing down his spine.

He had done it. He had killed. His old mentor had always said that it would be difficult, but he hadn’t expected _this,_ the fear and the guilt and the trembling in his hands that just wouldn’t stop.

_‘Your greatest weakness in the arena will be caring. There are some that can kill from the beginning. There are some who must learn. There are some who don’t learn and die. You, my boy, are only weak in that one way that you care. Don’t let them get to you. Don’t let anyone get to you. Block them out and take them down.’_ He remembered his mentor’s voice clearly, not Bofur, but the one back in District 4. Battle-hardened, bitter from the war, determined to see his student survive the Games.

_Block them out and take them down._

Fili stumbled back from the corpse, hands covered in sticky blood. He took a deep breath, trying to ground himself.

_Block them out and take them down._

He made his way to the stream, the world swimming around him, feeling woozy as he washed his hands and the knife in the crystal clear water, watching the cloud of red dissolve, feeling the girl from 1 pat him on the back with a little too much force to be friendly.

_Block them out. Take them down._

The Cannon sounded and Thorin barked a harsh command that Fili didn't understand. They should move, they should go, leave the twisted corpse lying there amid the boulders. Fili stood, knees still shaking slightly, following the small group as they ran away, jumping over boulders and bushes easily, whooping triumphantly.

He wanted to scream. He wanted to cry for the young man who couldn’t do so anymore, wanted to cry for the family he had torn apart. But he pushed it to the back of his mind and continued, ran away from the shame and the guilt and the warm, crimson blood still itching on his hands.

This, his mentor had warned him, was how he would learn to kill.

 

Bilbo watched in transfixed horror as the scene played out in front of him. It was disgusting, the ease with which the Careers seemed to kill. He watched them leave, laughing loudly, uncaring of anyone who might hear them. After all, who did they have to fear? They were unstoppable.

Bilbo’s gut twisted. If he wanted to win, he’d have to kill as well, sometime. It was proving a good idea to follow the Careers around, but it wouldn’t be enough. He had to get rid of them somehow.

Following them around had been his idea, though Gandalf, his mentor, had helped him work out most of the details. Bilbo was quick and silent; they wouldn’t even notice him. As long as he stayed near to them, he would always know where they were and could avoid them easily. He could filch some of their food and scavenge from the dead bodies they left behind (that had been Gandalf’s idea- an idea that Bilbo protested heatedly against).

Bilbo hadn’t been lying to Thorin that night on the roof. He was determined to survive, and once a Took- even half a Took- set his mind to something, the entire world, much less an arena full of killers, couldn’t stop him.

His stomach twisted as he approached the dead tribute, glassy eyes focused on the horizon. The sun was high above them, glaring mercilessly at the dark blood staining the moss on the rocks. Bilbo bit back a whimper as he removed the tribute's backpack and turned him over to check for weapons. A small spark of triumph shot through him as he found a long, sleek knife. The dead tribute was tall, probably almost too old to be in the arena, and the knife was large enough to function as a sword to Bilbo as he pulled it out of its sheath to admire the sleek edge.

Looking around hurriedly, Bilbo scuttled back into the bushes to inspect his findings in hiding. He could hear the distant buzz of the Helicarrier as he made his way through the undergrowth. All the cameras would be on him now. Everybody would know that he had a chance. He had a chance and he wasn’t going to let it pass by.

 

Tauriel frowned to herself as she crouched down, carefully inspecting some tracks on the forest floor. She hadn’t wanted to be in this alliance. The Careers may have intended to kill her, but at least they’d be useful, and she could run before they decided she had lost her worth. She could run from Kili as well, but he would almost certainly follow her. He wasn’t like the Careers; he would set his goal and follow through. Besides, if she left this fragile alliance as well, she’d have nowhere to go, and without her bow, she wasn’t sure how long she would last.

She needed Kili to trust her, but it wasn’t easy. He treated her decently enough most of the time, but he wouldn’t be swayed by subtle compliments, and as the situation was now, he wouldn't let his guard down long enough for her to leave. He was so much more dangerous than the overconfident Careers, why couldn’t anyone _see_ that?

_Well,_ Tauriel thought, _he’s met his match now._

Kili stepped up behind her silently and put his hand on her shoulder, pointing at the sky darkening with storm clouds.

“We should leave.” His voice was soft and level. He was fully aware of the danger that came with speaking loudly. “There’s a cave near here. We can shelter there.”

Nodding, Tauriel stood to follow him.

At least it'd be dry.

 

In the evening it started to rain. The drops were fat and heavy, making the leaves sag and rolling off branches to drop onto the tributes huddled below. It was cold and slightly damp in the cave at the riverside that Kili and Tauriel had found for themselves, but Kili refused to risk a fire. Tauriel sat grumbling in a corner, sharpening her knives as she watched Kili sorting through their packs.

“At least we have dinner.” Kili muttered to himself as he sifted through their food.

“Most of it needs to be cooked.” Tauriel replied grumpily.

Kili sighed as he turned to her. “I didn’t ask for your opinion, tree-hugger.”

“I thought we’d reached that part in our relationship where we talk civilly to each other?”

“We’ve reached that part where we agree that you should shut up.” Kili snarled back, already annoyed at himself for not killing the girl when she’d been strung up and helpless.  

He was angry at himself, and more than a bit scared. Scared that he had made the wrong decision, scared that he had damaged his chances of survival, and most of all, scared that he had made the right one and would come to care for Tauriel in time.

He wondered if she herself had similar fears, if she was also trying to distance herself through her quips and her sulking. This was precisely why he hadn’t wanted an alliance with anyone in the first place. Kili quickly got attached to people, just as people usually got attached to him. He liked other human beings. City life in District 12 was very close and neighbourly, and he had grown up constantly surrounded by other people. Was it different in District 7? He was tempted to ask, but stopped himself before he could. Having a place to return to would make her human. He wouldn’t repeat the mistake he’d made with Fili.

Fili. He allowed his mind to drift as he prepared some semblance of dinner, recalling clear, blue eyes and that warm laugh. He was surprised to realise he missed him, missed being able to talk to him, to watch him, to just feel him there, a solid, friendly presence. The next time they saw each other, one of both would end up dead.

 

Kili insisted on staying awake through the night, watching over Tauriel’s sleeping form. She had grumbled at first (“What if you decide to kill me?”), but eventually Kili had persuaded her to let him take first watch. (“If I wanted to kill you, you’d be back home in a casket by now.”)

He wasn’t planning on ever letting Tauriel take her own watch, obviously. She’d slit his throat without a second thought and scurry back to the Careers. She was useful to him. Kili _needed_ her, and he wasn’t about to let her slip through his fingers. And so he watched her sleep fitfully, exhausted by the day’s events.

The river was rushing past outside, waves lapping against the cave entrance. An approaching enemy would have to splash loudly through the freezing water if he wanted to attack them. At least that was reassuring. Kili counted himself lucky to have found this hideout. It was secure, and the cave walls would help hide a fire in case he needed one. True, it was a little cold and damp because of the proximity to the river, but at least he had water nearby and a place to sleep that was well-hidden from the others.

The raindrops pattering onto the cave roof and dripping down the walls were strangely soothing. Kili felt his limbs grow heavy, his tiredness fuelled by the strenuous day and the surprisingly satiating, though not very tasty meal he and Tauriel had shared. His eyelids drooped, the sounds of the river fading into the background. He was full, his sleeping bag warm, and his brain shutting down for a good night’s rest. Kili was powerless as he, too, drifted into slumber.

_He’s back in District 12, and fireballs are falling from the sky. Houses and mines are exploding, people screaming as bones and flesh melt in the heat. Kili is screaming too, the terrified screeches of an infant as his mother crouches down in a corner of the room, sheltering her children with her body._

_"It’s too dangerous out there. I’ll get trampled. The children will get trampled. I’m staying. Staying, and hoping."_ _He can recall his mother’s words clearly, although he is only a terrified two-year-old, listening, wide-eyed, and watching his parent’s faces twist and break in worry. People always flee when the bombs drop, and they always come back afterwards. They don’t have food out there, and they don't have the strength to face the predators. They always come back. But Kili’s family never runs in the first place, huddling together, clutching each other tight; the four of them sitting there, terrified, breathing in the ash that makes its way under the door and through the cracks in the wall. Mother once told Kili, sadly, that it was the ash that had made his sister so sick. She was coughing all the time, shaking and wheezing at the slightest exertion. Kili thought the ash might have found a way into her mind too, leaving her thoughts grey and dry and choking like her body._

_His father stands, ignoring his wife’s scared look."They're screaming, can't you hear? I’m not leaving them to die. I have to help. I’ll come back, I swear."_

_Kili’s mother is crying as his father leaves, running out into the ash, the fire and the death. Her tears carve clean paths down her cheeks, making her look as if she is wearing war-paint._

_Kili’s father never comes back._

Ash and fire and death clouded his mind, and Kili was tossing and turning in his dreams as the ashen rain turned soft and wet and cool and soothing, like water... water?

He was shocked out of his dream, lurching up, panting and gasping. He needed a moment to fully wake up, to register the cold, wet cave walls surrounding him and the sleeping form of Tauriel not far away.

It took him another moment to realize his sleeping bag was _soaked._ Not just damp from the cave walls, but actually soaked from the water flooding into the cave. _Oh. Oh shit._

Kili wriggled out as quickly as possible, feeling like a caterpillar trying frantically to escape the apocalypse, and grabbed his rucksack, leaving his bloated sleeping bag abandoned on the cave floor as he sloshed over to Tauriel through the ankle-deep water.

He leaned down to shake Tauriel awake, looking around in panic at the water pouring in through the cave entrance. It was the rain, he was sure, that unnatural Hunger-Games-Rain that had bloated the river much quicker than was natural.

He had barely touched her shoulder before Tauriel leaped up, needing only one quick look to assess the situation. Kili wondered how she did it before reminding himself that she, as opposed to him, had actually slept the night after the bloodbath and probably wasn’t the least bit tired.

They hurried towards the cave entrance together, freezing water sloshing over the top of Kili’s boots and soaking his socks.

Kili leaned out of the cave entrance, looking around, trying to find some kind of escape from the roaring masses. The river was rushing past, swift and strong, tugging at them furiously.

"There's no way onto land." Tauriel observed, sounding slightly panicked.

"Yeah, no shit." Kili replied dryly, closing the buckles of the rucksack. "We'll have to jump."

"Into the river?" Tauriel sounded incredulous. "And then we'll just hope that we get washed onto shore safely?"

Kili gave her his 'yeah-pretty-much' face. "That's the plan."

"We'll never make it." Tauriel looked out at the rain still pouring down in buckets, the river swelling further by the minute. There was no way this was natural. It was all the Gamemakers doing, and they would have made sure there was no way out.

"Let's find out." Kili gave her an annoying, entirely too happy grin before he let himself fall backwards into the river.

Tauriel shook her head. "You little shit." She muttered before leaping after him.

 

The cold hit Tauriel like a blow to the chest, cutting off her breath for a moment. Her clothes dragged her down, the weight of her backpack serving as extra ballast. She kicked up furiously, trying with all her might to break to the surface. She felt powerless as she was swept along by the current, the cold and lack of oxygen making her head swim.

She couldn't even tell up from down, unable to fight against the current that was sweeping her along like a rag doll. For the first time since she had entered the arena, panic clouded her mind. But then again, she'd never been in real danger yet. This, though, this was a fight for survival, for life itself. This was what the Hunger Games were supposed to be, and she hated every moment.

She felt her hand break through the surface, and heaved herself up toward the air, staying above water for a moment before sinking back down. She gave a soundless scream of fear, pulling herself up again. She tried to take deep breaths, fighting to stay above water.

"Tauriel!" Came a voice over the rushing water. _'Wait, what?',_ she thought _, 'there isn't supposed to be a voice.'_

_"Tauriel!"_ The shout was louder this time, cutting sharply through the fog in her mind. She looked around as best she could, catching sight of the heavy log rushing toward her, Kili holding tightly onto it to stay afloat. She ducked under water quickly to avoid being hit in the head, pushing upwards again immediately after it had passed.

Suddenly she was jerked forward and upward, dragged by her collar and lifted onto the log like a half-drowned puppy. She coughed up water as she clutched at the wet wood, watching Kili out of the corner of her eye.

It had stopped raining. As Tauriel had suspected, the rain was just intended to force them out of the cave and into the water, just another trick of the Gamemakers. It was cold, though, and the river was still flowing dangerously fast.

"Thank you." Tauriel gasped as soon as she could breathe again. Kili gave a little smile, pushing his sopping hair out of his face with one hand.

"We're a team, right? Can't abandon the team... if there's still use to them, that is." he added as an afterthought.

Tauriel gave a weak smile.

"We should try and get to land." Kili continued. Tauriel could hear his teeth chattering and realized that she herself was shivering as well.

She nodded. "We need to dry our clothes and warm ourselves up somehow."

"There'll be time for that once the Careers are dead." Kili replied firmly, but she could feel all too clearly that it was an act. It was hilarious, how much Kili changed himself for the cameras.

As much as she would love to let him follow through with his stupid suggestion, she had to remain the voice of reason. It looked like Kili was her best hope for survival. The Careers would certainly not welcome her back after she hadn't returned last night, and if she and Kili could kill Thorin and the rest in their sleep, Kili would be one of the strongest left.

"There'll be time to murder and plunder once there's no danger of dying from hypothermia." She replied, rolling her eyes. She felt the conversation to be slightly ridiculous, with both of them hanging of a log and holding on with all their might as they were swept down the still raging river.

"Okay." Kili pushed them away from a rock that was threatening to crush them. "Let's get to land. We'll bring this log over to the left riverbank. _Left,_ so don't try to swim against me or I _swear_ I'll push you off."

"Kili, think for a moment." Tauriel began paddling to help Kili push the log towards the bank. "I have no interest, _no_ interest whatsoever, in fighting against getting out of this hellhole."

Kili just glared at her and stoically paddled on.

 

It was slow, hard work, and Kili was fuming all the while. He hated it when Tauriel made him seem stupid, he hated the feeling and he hated the effect it would have on the Capitol Viewers. She knew what she was doing, he was sure of it, she was clever like that. But then again, he'd probably asked for it by treating her like he had. He hadn't trusted her, he still didn't, and while he was perfectly in the right not to, he should have treated her with at least a certain amount of respect. How could he expect her to help him if he couldn't even talk to her politely?

Kili hadn't actually believed they would make it to land, what with the fierce river dragging them on. He had thought that they would drift to a stop when the Gamemakers saw fit, or perhaps fall down a waterfall at the edge of the arena.

However, they managed to manoeuvre the log to shore, Kili grabbing an exposed root to steady them as Tauriel climbed onto land. The river was deep here, the bank falling immediately so that they couldn't even stand in the water. But Kili didn't want to let the opportunity pass, scared that they wouldn't manage to reach the riverbank again.

He waited until Tauriel was safely on land before beginning to climb up himself. If he let go of the root, the log would be swept away, and he with it, so he had to drop off their makeshift raft and hoist himself up by the root.

He slipped off carefully, gasping at the cold before beginning to scramble up the bank. He had hardly any grip on the slick mud, fingers slipping and sliding.

His arms were already beginning to burn with the strain of pulling himself up, but he was making progress up the steep bank. "You coming, Disson?" He could hear Tauriel ask above him.

"Coming." he gritted out, heaving himself up again. With one hand, he gripped the muddy bank above him, digging his fingers in. He dragged himself up, the hand on the root supporting him... and the root broke, cracking under Kili's weight. His fingers slipped through the mud, and he flailed as he fell, unable to find purchase. He fell in the water with a splash, the cold driving half the air out of his lungs as he sank down. He felt the current catch him and struggled furiously, but it was futile. He sank even further down as blackness crept up on the edge of his mind.


	6. Cannon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A plan forms, and the field narrows.

The rain stopped in the late morning, suddenly, as if a switch had been flipped. The Careers had just begun their trek down the mountain, forced to go hunt for food themselves when it became clear that Tauriel wasn't going to return.

Thorin had been furious when she hadn't come back, rampaging around the cave in frustrated anger before fixating the other four with a glare that warned them of following in her footsteps. He'd been brooding the entire night, at least as far as Fili could tell, kicking the rest of them awake at dawn so as to get an early start.

Fili had thought that after the kill yesterday, Thorin would trust him at least a little more, but apparently Tauriel's desertion negated Fili's own deeds completely. He couldn't allow himself one wrong move, not anymore. He was about as safe with the Careers as he was alone.

He had to leave.

 

The day was grey and overcast, dew still clinging to the bushes on the mountainside, droplets clinging to Fili's jacket as he brushed past the vegetation, following Thorin. The other three thumped along behind him, unbearably loud in the morning stillness of the arena.

Fili was glad that they were moving in a pack. With the others looking out for the group, he had time to think, and to plan.

Thorin wasn't going to be fooled easily. The other tribute was a light sleeper, Fili had noticed that he would wake at even the smallest sounds, provided he slept at all (Fili really wasn't sure).

The best way to desert them was to get away from the others in broad daylight, and then run, much like Tauriel had done it. It would be impossible to leave when any of the others were on watch, and Thorin made a point of staying awake when it was Fili’s turn to take watch. Fili needed an opportunity to get a head start, and once it was presented, he had to seize it without a moment’s hesitation. Anticipation curled in his belly, making him wary and jumpy as he followed the others. He'd have to be ready for anything.

 

They made it down to the forest without incident. The arena was silent, the sun burning up all reminders of the rainfall that morning. Not even birdsong sounded through the trees, and Fili shuddered at the eerie stillness. There was not a single trace of any tribute passing through here, any tracks washed away long ago. Fili quickly did a silent head-count. The only really dangerous ones left out here were Azog, Tauriel and Kili.

Oh heavens, Kili. He hoped that the younger had made it this far, and that he wasn’t in too much misery. It was a shame that such a bright, wonderful young man should be forced to fight for his life in here. Fili had asked for it, even fought for the privilege of volunteering, but Kili had been thrown into the arena suddenly, completely unforeseen, without any proper training or even a chance to say much of a goodbye. Fili felt sorry for him, and despite himself, he caught himself hoping that Kili would make it out, make it back to his family. Fili gauged his chances very realistically, and at this point in time, they weren’t good. He’d be happier knowing that at least Kili was going to live.

_Please,_ he prayed soundlessly, _please, Kili, be clever enough to stay out of our way. I don’t want to have to kill you. I don’t want anyone to kill you._ If the brunet decided to attack, he’d have even less of a chance than Fili did now.

Fili’s gaze swept through the scraggly undergrowth, looking out for tracks. All the while he was listening carefully for signs of approaching contestants, not willing to trust the others to identify a possible ambush.

A crack sounded, like that of a broken branch, quiet yet distinct. All five Careers froze, looking around for the source of the sound. Fili’s grip tightened around his twin swords as he waited for other tributes to come bursting out between the trees. Dirt slowly spiralled down from above, along with a few pinecones dropping to the earth around them. A dead branch joined the pinecones, falling with a small thump to the leaf-strewn forest floor.

It took Fili a moment to process it, and he blinked up at the trees, confused. There was another crack, louder this time, and Fili opened his mouth to shout a warning as the first tree began to fall, directly above them. Thorin twisted to look up, seemingly unable to react as momentary panic stunned him. Fili hurled himself at the older tribute, pushing him out of the tree’s way and pulling him back to his feet as soon as they hit the ground. Beorn and the girls scrambled over the fallen tree as behind them, another crashed to the ground. The Careers bolted, running mindlessly from the trees falling behind them. Fili skidded to a halt as before him, a huge bough dropped to the ground, followed by a tree that crushed it with an almighty crunch. The blond followed Thorin, unwilling to be left behind, never losing him out of his sight as they dodged the heavy trunks. Dust rose up, blocking their view and clogging their noses and mouths. Coughing, Fili ran on, stumbling only slightly.

It stopped suddenly, the air strangely quiet as Fili rubbed the grit out of his eyes before looking back. Behind, the trees were still falling. He looked around, at Thorin, who was panting and coughing, dirt streaking his long dark hair, and at the quiet forest surrounding them.

“Where’s Beorn?” Fili hated himself for the note of panic that crept into his voice as the girl from District 1 joined them, wheezing and retching.

“Still in there.” Thorin gasped, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand. Fili looked back at the falling trees, dust thick in the air.

“We need them.” He decided, ignoring Thorin’s shout of ‘Durin, _get back here!’_ as he ran back into the midst of the falling trees.

 

Bilbo gasped in relief as his arms wrapped around the trunk of a large oak that blessedly remained standing. He cursed the Gamemakers silently, looking back at the swath of forest he had just escaped. Durin and Oakenshield stumbled out of the dust cloud beneath him, stopping as soon as they were sure the trees would stay standing. They hadn’t noticed him, Bilbo noted with relief. He thought he had blown it when the branch he was standing on had practically fallen onto their heads. The Gamemakers must like him to cover up his mishap like that.

Bilbo couldn’t believe he’d made it, jumping from one tree to another, the branches breaking and falling even as he landed. There had been more than one close scrape, but he had spent half his life climbing trees, and now it came in useful.

Relaxing against the broad trunk, he watched Fili and Thorin beneath him, raising an eyebrow when Fili stormed back into the dust cloud and vanished from view. This sudden heroism was going to kill Fili one day.

 He could see Thorin considering running after the younger, probably more out of fear of being alone than because of any protective feelings towards Durin. In the end he stayed where he was, spitting and fuming as he gripped his axe tighter, looking around for any foes and complaining loudly to his fellow District 1 tribute.

For a moment, Bilbo considered attempting an attack, but decided that it would be futile. In the best case it would blow his cover, likely it would end up getting him killed. He wasn’t good enough to face Oakenshield in hand to hand combat yet, much less him _and_ the lady.

Shifting to a more comfortable position, Bilbo decided that there was nothing to do but wait.

 

The air was thick, choking him as he breathed. It was more difficult than before to dodge the trees, although Fili was surprised that there were even any left standing. “BEORN!” He shouted before mud filled his mouth, forcing him to run on in silence, coughing into his hand. As it turned out, Beorn was easy to spot, lying sprawled out in the middle of the pathway, knocked unconscious by a falling branch. He was lucky his head hadn’t been completely smashed in.

Grabbing him under the armpits, Fili dragged him to a fallen tree, shoving him into a little hollow between the trunk and the ground to protect him from the forest collapsing in on itself. Fili hoped it would do. They could get him once the trees had stopped falling.

He pushed on, determined to find the girl as well. They’d need everyone alive and fighting if they wanted to win, and even though he wasn't planning  on staying with the Careers, being alone with Oakenshield wasn’t exactly desirable either.

She wasn’t far from Beorn, conscious but with one leg trapped underneath a young tree. Fili kneeled down, watching her wide eyes as he began to help her out from under the tree. She hadn’t expected help, not in the arena, and he probably shouldn’t be giving it, but he couldn’t just leave them behind.

“Can you stand?” he asked her as soon as she had inched her leg out from underneath. He hoped it wasn’t broken. They couldn’t afford an injured tribute on the team.

She nodded, stood. “I was lucky. It was just trapped.”

“You're lucky you're even alive.” Fili offered her his arm as support, more to pull her aside in case of danger than to actually help her walk. She took it, stepping gingerly at first to test her leg. Fili frowned. Something was off, something had changed. He looked around, needing a moment to notice the dust settling.

The trees had stopped falling.

The trees had stopped falling and he was alone with a tribute that couldn’t run after him.

The opportunity was perfect.

“Durin?” The girl asked, frowning at him. Was that apprehension in her voice? He took one look at her. She looked scared, as if she was considering that he might kill her.

He wouldn’t do anything of the sort.

Without a second thought, Fili ran.

 

The water was cold, blessedly so, swirling around Kili surprisingly gently as he sank down, unable to struggle any longer. His lungs were on fire, and he knew that in a moment he wouldn’t care anymore, he'd take a last deep breath and sink slowly into the blackness creeping up upon his senses. Dying was surprisingly peaceful, he thought as sunlight flickered before his eyes. It wouldn’t be so bad.

He wondered what would happen to his family. Would his body be brought up for them to bury?

How would the Gamemakers even know he had died when he was down here? How long would they wait before firing that cannon? Would he still hear it, that telltale sound of his own death? Or would he be long gone by then?

His eyes drifted shut slowly, as if he were falling asleep. He was feeling drowsy, heavy, peaceful. If it weren’t for the water surrounding him and the burning pain in his chest, he would have thought he was back home, lying in bed with his mother humming a lullaby as she sat in front of the fire.

He wondered who the victor would be. He hoped it was Fili. Fili deserved to go home, back to his mother, to the ships and the gulls and the sea singing him to sleep. Kili tried to imagine it, the waves, the screeching of the birds. He wished he could have seen District 4, somehow.

Well, too late now... too late...

A hand grabbed him by the collar, dragging Kili up roughly, out of his half-asleep state. The will to breathe came back suddenly, surprisingly even, and he kicked upwards to assist whoever was pulling. It felt like coming alive again, a primal desire to _survive_ rising in him and lending him new strength.

He gasped as he broke to the surface, drawing in a lungful of fresh air before a coughing fit overcame him. Kili was thrown onto the riverbank roughly, and lay there almost motionless, convulsing slightly as he coughed. Tauriel – _of course it was Tauriel, who else should it have been?_ Kili thought to himself _-_ helped him into a kneeling position, slapping him on the back as he began coughing again, heaving up water he hadn’t even realized he’d swallowed.

When his breathing had calmed somewhat, and the coughing fits had stopped, Kili looked over to Tauriel, who was watching concernedly. He gave a small smile. It must have looked pathetic, wet and bedraggled as he was. She smiled back gently, seemingly relieved. Kili hadn’t known she cared for him that much.

“Thank you.” His voice was hoarse, and it hurt to talk, but still he repeated the words. “Thank you.”

Tauriel’s smile grew just that little bit wider. “We’re a team.” She replied, Kili recognizing the words as something he himself had said. “Can’t abandon the team.”

Kili grinned. “Well,” He stood shakily, Tauriel reaching out to steady him, “What’s next?”

She raised an eyebrow at him. “You came _this_ close to drowning and you’re asking what’s next?”  
“I’m alive, aren’t I?” Kili took a careful step away from Tauriel’s supporting hand, knees shaking, and promptly collapsed, air leaving his lungs in a whoosh as he fell to the ground.

Tauriel laughed and he snarled at her as he rolled onto his back, breathing heavily.

“Okay, maybe we should rest a bit.” He admitted, breaking into a giggling fit himself. He didn’t even know why he was laughing, but it did him good. Something akin to affection overcame him as Tauriel helped him sit up.

“Okay.” Kili leaned against a tree, spilling the contents of his backpack onto the forest floor. Most of the food was ruined, and his sleeping bag was gone, he had left it in the cave. The wire had fallen out- the greatest loss, as far as Kili was concerned- and so had one of the water flasks and the sunglasses, but miraculously, the rest was still there, and he hadn’t lost his sword or his bow, although the bow would need restringing

“You’ll need a new bandage for that leg.” Tauriel pointed to his thigh, Kili's trousers having torn to reveal the arrow wound.

“Is that where I shot you?” She asked curiously, handing him a bandage she had found in her backpack. Kili nodded as he began wrapping it around his thigh. “That’s where you shot me.” He confirmed. “It hurts like a bitch, but I can put my weight on it and everything.”

Tauriel watched him silently. “I’m sorry.” She finally said.

“No, you aren’t.” Kili grunted, pulling the bandage tight enough to walk.

Tauriel sighed. “I wasn’t earlier. I am now. Things change, you know.”

Kili seemed to deflate, resting his forehead against his knee.

“It’s alright.” He sighed, before straightening up and tying the bandage off. When he was finished he looked up at the cloudless sky, huffing.

“Well, plan. We need a plan.” Kili focused on Tauriel again, and she nodded, picking up a twig with which to draw on the forest floor.

“The Careers are on the mountaintop.” She began. “They found a cave there, near the Cornucopia. We should strike while they’re asleep. We have to be quick, and quiet. Can you climb?”

Kili nodded, remembering all those times he had scrambled up trees to steal eggs from the birds' nests.

“They pull up the ladder at night and there’s a guard keeping watch. We need to get past him somehow and kill the Careers in their sleep.” Tauriel drew as she talked, mapping out the arena.

“We make some kind of noise outside.” Kili suggested. “Not too loud, so we won’t wake the others. He comes running, we shoot him. Easy.”

“A diversion.” Tauriel nodded. “That's a possibilty. We'll have to make it quick, though, so he won't wake the others."

“There’s a certain risk to every plan. We’re in the goddamn Hunger Games, nothing is ever safe.” Kili dragged a hand through his hair, fingers catching on the snarls. “So we kill them in their sleep, provided our plan works without a hitch, we stock up on their supplies, and then what? We kill each other?”

“I thought we had an alliance going on here?” Tauriel replied, voice uncharacteristically quiet, unsure even. Kili smiled. “Yeah. We do have that.”

“We’ll go apart peacefully. Give each other a fair chance.”

Kili nodded in agreement. “When there’re fewer people left. If we survive that long.”

“We will.” Tauriel stood, dusting off her trousers. “Can you stand?”

Kili pulled himself up shakily, swaying for a moment before walking a few tentative steps. “I’m fine.”

“Good. Kili,” Tauriel looked him in the eyes, serious and firm, “be honest. Can you really do this? Do you think you can kill someone without hesitation?"

Kili hesitated for a long time, fiddling with his bow, carefully arranging his rucksack and quiver over his back, picking at a loose thread in his coat. _Fili._ Could he really kill Fili? A heavy weight seemed to settle on his chest at the thought, crushing his ribcage and making it hard to breathe, but finally he looked up, eyes hard with determination.

“Yes.”

Tauriel just nodded gravely. “Good. You'll need to."

She pulled a compass out of her pocket, placing it in the palm of her hand. “North-East.” She pointed to underline her words. “Let’s go.”

 

They decided to walk just out of sight of each other, but within shouting distance. They needed meat, and had hopes of finding more prey if they fanned out as best they could. Kili still didn’t trust Tauriel not to run away, but she wouldn't really get a better chance than she had staying with Kili. If she struck out on her own, she would be dead by midday, almost weaponless as she was. She couldn’t go back to the Careers. Tauriel would never run, not now.

Their plan wasn’t exactly a stroke of genius, but it was good enough. The chances of success were high enough, and if they did manage, the stakes would change completely, and probably in their favour.

A crack sounded through the still air, like that of someone stepping on a twig. Kili side-stepped quickly, hiding behind a tree, hearing a soft crackle as Tauriel seemed to do the same. He peeked out from behind the cover of the trunk, waiting nervously for someone to appear from between the trees. He had notched an arrow, ready to shoot at a moment’s notice. It was probably nothing, but Kili wasn’t going to take his chances.

He stayed behind that tree for at least five minutes, but nothing appeared, neither human nor animal, and there wasn’t another sound of any sort.

Kili stepped out from behind the tree, relaxing only slightly and still watching carefully for threats of any kind.

A scream tore through the still air, shattering it like glass.

Kili’s blood turned to ice.

 

He crashed through the trees, ignoring the foolishness of the move. Kili found her in a clearing, just out of sight form where he had been. Oh, if only she had been nearer, whatever had happened could probably have been stopped!

She was bleeding over her hands as she lay on the forest floor, clutching her abdomen, kicking and struggling against the tribute who still had her in headblock and was trying to unbuckle her backpack. The tribute looked up as Kili stormed into the clearing, jumped up and fled. Kili sent an arrow after him, but his hands were shaking, and he missed.

“Tauriel!” Kili leaped over to his friend, kneeling beside her as he took her in his arms, laying her head in his lap. He almost asked ‘Are you all right’ out of instinct, but she was quite obviously not alright, gasping and shuddering in pain as she bled out slowly.

“Kili.” She sounded relieved to see him, and Kili tried to smile down at her past his tears, stroking her hair carefully.

“Yes.” He replied, fighting to keep his voice from breaking. It wasn’t the first time he was helping someone to die. People being shot in the streets and left to die was a common occurrence in District 12.

“Don’t go through… with the plan… You can’t do it…. Not alone.” Tauriel's breathing was laboured, speaking seemed to cause her difficulties.

“Okay, I won’t. I promise, I won’t.”

“You’ve got to win.” Her fingers found his, and her grip tightened weakly. “You’ve got to win.” She repeated, fiercer now. “If I die, you must live. Go back home. You shouldn’t… be here, you-“

Her words were interrupted by another scream, and her back bowed as she writhed in his arms. Sweat pearled on her forehead.

“I have faith in you. You can win.” Her skin felt feverish, and her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

“I will.” Kili promised. “I’ll try my best.”

She smiled weakly. “That’s good enough.”

Kili bowed his head, tears pricking his eyes.

Tauriel shuddered again, whimpering. “Kili… please… end it... somehow.”

“No.” Kili gripped her hand. “Tauriel, no, please no, don’t make me do this…”

“Goddamnit, Disson, I’m going to d-“ She grunted, her grip on his hand tightening as another stab of pain shot through. “I’m going to die anyway, it’s the least… the least you could do.”

“No, I can’t live with myself if I do this.” Kili shook his head.

Tauriel glared at him. “I’m dying. Just for once, could this be about me?”

Kili’s head sank to his chest in defeat. “I'm sorry. I... I'll do it.”

“Good.” For awhile, one could only hear Tauriel's rasping pants. “You need to find Fili. You two need to fight this battle together.”

“Tauriel...” Kili was confused. Why was she telling him this now?

“He’s not going to stay with the Careers. I know him that well, at… at least.” Tauriel looked up at him, a smile curling at the corner of her lips. “He isn’t going to hurt you. He loves you. You should protect each other.”

“Sshh.” Kili hushed her, still stroking her hair gently. Tauriel’s eyes glazed over.

 “I… I can see the stars.” She mumbled, barely there anymore.

“Yes. They’d be more beautiful from the top of the mountain.” Tears tracked down Kili's cheeks.

“No… They… They’re perfect.” Tauriel’s grip on his hand loosened. Her fingers were warm and soft in his.

“Do you think that’s where I’ll go when I die?” Tauriel murmured. “Up there? To the stars?”

“Yes. But you aren’t going to die. Not today.” Kili knew he was lying, and he wasn’t going to help Tauriel by doing so. She knew he was lying to her, it was obvious.

Soft laughter. Kili was surprised she could still laugh, even if the chuckle was laced with pain.

“Prepare the cannon.” Tauriel murmured before finally closing her eyes, baring her neck as shudders of pain wracked her body.

Kili carefully unbuckled her backpack and took her knives from her. He shoved one into her hand, closing her rapidly cooling fingers around the handle. He placed the other knife against her throat gently. She gave a little sigh, a gasp almost, relaxing in his arms. She seemed glad to be dying, and with a painful pang, Kili was reminded of his older sister.

 

Her blood was too warm, and it sickened him, but he lowered her carefully to the ground before standing, looking down at her, tears blurring his vision.

He wrapped a scrap of cloth around her neck to hide the gaping wound, wiping strands of hair out of her face before turning away and stomping through the clearing, away from the dead body of his ally. His friend.

He stopped as the cannon went off, turning to watch as a hovercraft materialized above her. The claw descended, closing around her limp body surprisingly gently, as if unwilling to wake her from her sleep.

Kili watched as she was lifted aboard, lowering his head in respect and remaining motionless until it was gone, carrying Tauriel’s body to the Capitol, from where it would be brought to her parents, stiff and cold, still dressed in her tribute’s costume, perfectly made up by her prep team, a plastic doll of their daughter that they would barely recognize.

He hoped that they would at least cover the wound on her neck.

Perhaps she was happier now.


	7. If this is Love

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things happen. Thorin is furious. Kili is upset. I don't know how to write chapter summaries.

Her killer had left tracks, obvious tracks, as he fled. He’d been in too much of a hurry to get away from Kili to bother hiding up his footsteps.

_Good,_ Kili thought as he bent down to trace his fingers across the ridges of a boot imprint in the dirt. He was scared, as he should be, and once he was scared, he would make mistakes. He hadn't even bothered to clean his knife, drops of Kili's friend's blood staining the leaves. The tribute would regret that, just like he would regret everything he had done today.

Kili stood, tightening the straps of his quiver and tucking Tauriel’s knife into his belt.

He was on the hunt.

 

Kili never took a break on his frantic hunt, ignoring his thirst, his hunger, the heat of the sun on the back of his unprotected neck. First and foremost in his mind was that the tribute should pay, pay for killing his friend, pay for killing clever, strong Tauriel who could have been the Victor, or, at least, survived a little longer.

Further back, and almost suppressed, Kili was simply questioning what to do. He had no strategy, his supplies were half-gone, he didn’t have allies, nor any idea what to do now. He felt useless, and scared, and he might as well track down someone, just so he could have some kind of purpose. Kili felt desperate, there was no other way of saying it, desperate and afraid, and even then he knew that he had to remain in control, or it would be interpreted as weakness, and he couldn't allow that.

Kili had no idea how on earth that tribute had managed to come so far in the Games. The tracks he had left behind as he fled were so _painstakingly_ obvious, his survival so far and being able to sneak up on Tauriel must have been a stroke of luck.

The sun was burning high above him, simmering in anger that matched Kili's. It was a hot day, but Kili didn’t care, he just wiped away the sweat that dripped into his eyes and plodded on, knowing full well that the heat was a chance for him to catch up, for if that tribute took a single break, even if only to drink, Kili would be upon him, if only he could keep on walking now.

Kili came unnervingly close to the mountain on his hunt. For a few brief seconds, he worried about the Careers, but his nervosity quickly vanished under the broiling anger he still felt, the thrill of the hunt, the fire in his veins from having a _plan,_ a _purpose._

In a small copse at the foot of the mountain, the tracks suddenly vanished, seemingly into thin air.

Kili stood there, fuming, furious at having been robbed of his prey and wondering what had happened for the tracks to disappear so suddenly. They had been so apparent thus far, and the tribute couldn't simply take flight. Maybe he had hidden them? Oh, curse him, curse him a thousand times. Kili snarled as he let the bowstring lie slack, shoving the arrow back into his quiver angrily.

A weight slammed into him from behind, knocking the air out of his lungs, an arm wrapping around his chest firmly as he struggled, strong hands twisting his wrists behind his back.

Kili managed to squirm out of the embrace, turning to look his adversary in the eye, icy horror flooding through him at the sight. It was the tribute from before, the one who had killed Tauriel, he was standing just before him, holding a knife to Kili’s throat as the smaller tribute struggled.

To Kili's surprise, it was not fear, but anger that boiled to the surface.

“You killed her.” He spat into the tribute’s face. The taller gripped the hair at the back of Kili’s head roughly, keeping him immobile against the knife resting on his throat.

The other was breathing heavily, and there was pain in his eyes that confused Kili. How could this man, who had killed his friend, be pained in any way?

“It’s all just a game, Disson. And she happened to lose. Just like you’re going to lose now.”

“Not if I have my say.” Kili snarled back, his confusion vanishing as he wrenched himself free from the tribute’s grip, ignoring the stinging pain as he tore his own hair out.

The force with which he had pulled out of the other's grip sent him stumbling backwards a few paces before he tripped and fell inelegantly. The tribute snarled, leaping forward to finish him off. Kili grasped frantically for his own knife, fully aware that it was too late.

The blood was too warm, like Tauriel’s, too warm on his face and hands. He blinked, surprised, as the tribute attacking him stumbled. His breathing was suddenly too loud, his heart racing, and only then did he realize that the blood was not his own.

The tribute was tossed aside like a rag doll, the cannon sounding only seconds after. Kili sat motionless, gripping the hilt of his knife with white-knuckled hands and not quite able to grasp what had just happened.

“Fucking drama queen.” Came another voice, so different from the pained, broken sounds of the now-dead tribute. This voice was warm and kind and wonderfully familiar. “He should have just killed you while he had the chance.”

“Fili?”

“Hello, Kili.”

 

“I don’t get it.” Kili pushed aside a branch, following Fili as the blond strode through the forest.

“You already said that, Kili. Three times.”

“I still don’t get it.”

“That makes four.”

“Fili, I don’t want a head-count of things I don’t understand, I want an _explanation!”_

Fili stopped. Kili saw his shoulders tense up as he considered what to answer.

“I really don’t know.”

“You saved my life!” Kili grabbed him by the shoulder and turned the blond to face him. “You spared it at the Cornucopia, then saved me again just now! Just tell my _why._ Why are you breaking the rules for me?”

“I don’t know.” Fili replied, looking back at him, as calm as Kili was frantic. “I just wouldn’t be able to bear it if you get hurt.”

Kili frowned, not quite sure what to make of the older blond. But _damn,_ if he wasn’t slightly _too_ attractive right now, a bit messy, a bit rough, and so stupid and _sweet_ that it made Kili’s heart ache.

“I wouldn’t want you to be hurt either.” Kili confessed, remembering that time back in the Training Centre, in the elevator. He could still feel the warmth of Fili’s hand over his heart, the calming steadiness of it. He remembered the rooftop, Fili’s gentle voice, the softness in his eyes as he spoke.

How could anyone ever wish Fili any harm?

Fili gave a small smile.

“Good luck, Kili.” He shrugged off Kili's hand that was still resting on his shoulder and turned, walking away through the forest. Rays of sunshine falling through the trees caught in his golden hair, giving him a fiery gold halo as he strode away from Kili. The brunet’s heart clenched painfully. There was something so _wrong_ about Fili walking away from him like that that it almost brought tears to his eyes.

“Where are you going?” he called after the blond tribute, confused.

Fili turned, walking backwards. “Away!” he shouted back. “The Careers are probably fuming by now! I should get out their hunting territory!”

Kili had to grin as he broke into a jog to catch up with the older tribute. He didn’t even know what he was doing and why he was doing it, but the look of surprise on Fili’s face was worth it.

“Kili?” Fili drew his brows together in confusion as Kili drew alongside him, grinning cheerfully. “What... are you doing?”

“Coming with you, you idiot!” Kili grinned happily, nudging the blond's shoulder with his. “Someone has to look after you, right?”

Fili couldn’t help but chuckle. “And you think you’re the man for the job?”

Kili turned serious in the blink of an eye. “Yeah.” His hand found Fili’s and he entwined their fingers gently, as if asking for permission. “I think I am.”

Fili remained silent, but did not shy away from the warm, soft grip on his hand. Instead, he gave a gentle squeeze, smiling.

“Kili Disson.” He finally announced slowly. “You are going to be the end of me.”

 

It was only when dusk slowly crept through the forest, clawing its way between the trees and over the scraggly bushes, that Fili and Kili finally halted. The mountain was a shadow in the distance, rising darkly from the mist beginning to settle over the rest of the arena. Kili sighed. It was going to be a long, cold night.

They couldn’t risk a fire, but Fili had supplies that he had taken from the Careers, good Capitol food, fruit and bread and dried meat. They ate their fill, Kili's hunger subsiding for the first time in days. As dusk fell, they settled down to sleep, curling up between the roots of the trees.

“Don’t you have a sleeping bag?” Fili’s voice was hushed, concerned. Kili twisted around to look at the blond, at the blue eyes glinting in the midst of the shadows shrouding his face. Kili shook his head, smiling gently.

“Don’t worry about me.” He replied. “I’ll live.”

“Fuck no, I’m going to worry about you all I want!” Fili sounded insulted. “Now come here, we can share.” Kili heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down so Fili could spread the sleeping bag over both of them like a blanket.

“Are you coming or not?” Fili asked impatiently. Kili chuckled.

“Resistance seems to be futile.” He sighed, making his way over to the tree under which Fili lay.

“Damn right it is.” Fili grinned up at him, grabbing the brunet's slim wrist and forcing him to sit. Kili chuckled, shuffling closer to Fili. The older tribute seemed to radiate warmth, and Kili snuggled up to him happily.

“Hmmm, you’re like a furnace.” He murmured appreciatively. Fili laughed, his fingers beginning to card gently through Kili’s hair.

“I’ll take that as a compliment.”

“Please, do.”

“Hmmm.” Fili’s chest vibrated beneath Kili’s cheek as the blond hummed. “I’ll take first watch, okay?”

“Okay.” Kili already felt his eyes falling shut, and he curled up even more into the warmth of Fili’s body. He hadn’t been sure such closeness would be well received, but was grateful Fili hadn’t pushed him off yet. It lent him strength, Fili’s steady heartbeat, his warm, solid arms around Kili’s shoulders.

Kili was almost asleep when suddenly the anthem blared through the arena, jerking him out of his doze. He sat up, hair sticking up wildly, and Fili had to smile at the sight.

Instead of settling down again after the initial shock, Kili untangled himself from Fili’s embrace, slipping out from under the blanket and walking over to where the trees opened up enough for him to have a good view of the Capitol Seal above them. Fili frowned at his retreating form before standing to follow him, although he kept his distance, unsure if Kili wanted company right now.

Once the anthem stopped, the screen cleared to show the boy Fili had killed that day, gazing heroically into the distance, so unlike the madly grinning face Kili had been faced with when that boy had lunged at him with a knife and the intention to kill.

After that came Tauriel, her red hair fading to a bluish white on the screen, a smirk curling around the corners of her mouth. Kili sat, tucked his legs against his body, wrapped his arms around himself.

_I’m sorry,_ he prayed, silently. _I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you._

A warm, solid weight settled on his shoulders, and Kili turned to find Fili standing above him. The brunet touched his fingers to the blanket Fili had wrapped around his shoulders carefully and smiled gently.

“Thank you.” He whispered, so quietly he wasn’t sure if Fili had heard it. The blond remained silent, standing awkwardly to the side until Kili reached up to link their fingers together, entwining them tenderly and pulling Fili down to sit next to him.

Fili, his every movement speaking of quiet uncertainty, took Kili in his arms wordlessly, pulling him close under their shared blanket and nestling the younger’s head against his chest.

Kili curled into Fili a bit more, snuggling into his warm embrace.

“She was your ally, wasn’t she?” Fili asked as Tauriel’s picture faded away and they were left in darkness once more.

“She was my friend.” Kili replied. “I think she was, at least.”

“You cared for her?” Fili began stroking Kili’s hair again, fingers combing through the soft strands.

“We were a team. We had to help each other. And then we were friends, and I had to protect her.”

The night air stirred the leaves above them, making them rustle softly.

“Kili Disson, you are one of the kindest and stupidest people I have ever met.”

“Yeah? Listen to the pot calling the kettle black.” Kili grinned, turning his face against Fili’s chest.

“You fall for people pretty easily, don’t you?” Fili murmured.

“Fall for?” Kili struggled to sit up. “I did not fall for her, we were _not_ in love...”

“Hey, calm down, wildcat.” Fili chuckled, pulling Kili back to his chest. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

“It isn't a big deal, I overreacted.” Kili apologized. “But we weren't in love."

Fili hummed a wordless reply. For a long while they sat in silence, watching the stars that sat like shards of glass in the night sky.

“You don’t have to feel guilty for her death. You do know that, don’t you?” Fili sounded like he had back on the rooftop, quiet, gentle, as if his very words could break.

“I shouldn’t even feel upset about it.” Kili whispered his reply. Fili curled even closer around the younger tribute to hear him properly. “But I do. I feel upset, and I feel guilty. I know it’s wrong, I shouldn’t care for anyone’s life except my own. But... I should have been able to help her.”

“I’m willing to bet that there was absolutely no way you could have helped.” Fili's hands skimmed along the brunet's back gently. “Tell me what happened?” He inquired carefully. It was more of a suggestion than a question, and Kili complied gladly.

Fili sat quietly throughout the whole narrative, humming every now and again to confirm he was still listening. Kili’s voice was rough and low, his head still bedded on Fili’s chest as he told the blond about the events of the past two days. There wasn’t as much to tell as he had thought, and he finished rather quickly, scared that he hadn’t managed to communicate the story properly.

There was a long silence. “I get it.” Fili finally murmured. “How you feel, I mean. Getting attached to someone in the arena, I know what it's like.”

“It’s happened to you as well?” Kili’s voice was slightly slurred, his eyes starting to fall shut.

“It’s happening right now.”

 

Fili groaned blearily, raising his head slightly from the nest of blankets. Above him, someone chuckled.

“Good morning, Sleeping Beauty.” Kili smiled brightly, his eyes lighting up as he took in the elder’s messy hair and sleepy frown.

“Morning, Prince Charming.” Fili replied, sitting up and brushing a hand through his hair before tying it into a neat ponytail.

“Sleep well?” Kili tucked the blanket around Fili’s shoulders before turning to search their bags for something to eat.

“Yeah.” Fili replied, gratefully accepting the food Kili handed him. “See anything unusual on your watch?”

“Nothing.” Kili tucked into his own breakfast hungrily, not even sparing Fili a glance as he answered. “I think we’re safe for the time being.”

“I do believe you’re right.” Fili murmured, standing to survey the area. They were on a small hill that was overlooking the rest of the forest. The mountain stood high and proud in the middle distance, peak wreathed in mist.

“I hope the Careers are still in their cave. I prefer knowing where they are. They might have decided to move after I left. Decided that I know too much.”

“I don’t think so.” Kili stood up as well, licking his fingers clean between words. “They’re too confident for that. Might not’ve even occurred to them that you could be dangerous. They don't know you're not alone. Maybe they think you’re dead, or that you’ll die before you can reach them.”

“Thorin won’t. He doesn't underestimate anyone. He took you very seriously, you know."

"I'm honoured." Kili grinned, snapping closed the buckles on his backpack. "C'mon!" The brunet finally called out. Fili turned, catching the rucksack Kili threw at him just in time so it didn't hit him in the face. Kili laughed at his shocked expression, and Fili had to grin as well at the sound.

"You little troll." Fili ruffled Kili's unruly mop of hair as he walked past, away from the mountain.

"Fili?"

"Yeah?" Fili turned around, stopping to look at Kili.

"Where are we going?"

"I've told you: Away from the Careers. We've stayed here for two days, it's time to move."

"Yes, but why? I mean, we're just running away. How's that going to help us?" Kili seemed genuinely confused, standing amid the tall trees and demanding answers.

"They're going to kill me." Fili said it as though it were obvious, just another certainty in life, not a terrifying prospect but just... there, like breathing, like thinking.

"You're going to die anyway. Sorry for saying it like this, but you're going to be killed or we'll have to kill each other, or I'll die. Why are we running, Fili? There's nowhere to run to. We have a chance, but only if we seize it. We've managed to survive, why don't we try to win for once?"

It was the determination in Kili's voice that was beginning to sway Fili, not the words themselves. Kili made it sound like they really _did_ have a chance, giving Fili hope as well. They could survive, Fili knew they could, and Kili was right, why was he even running? Fili stared at the brunet in wonder, as if he had dropped from the sky to bring him some kind of relevation.

"Stop being a coward, Fili. This flight is hopeless. Let's go, face the Careers, and win these stupid games." Kili ignored the fact that the victory was only for one of them. He didn't really want to think about it.

A slow smile spread over Fili's face. "I swear to Mahal, you are the bravest, stupidest person I have ever met." Fili shook his head, stepping closer to the taller brunet, looking up at him with deep smile. Kili stood frozen in place, not quite sure what to do. Fili's lips were so close, his eyes were so blue, and he was so beautiful in the early morning light that Kili didn't quite know how he kept himself from kissing the gorgeous blond breathless.

"All right, brave warrior." Fili stepped back ever so slightly, Kili wanting to reach out and grab him, pull him close again. The blond gestured towards him with a fond grin. " Lead on."

 

"I still don't understand why we have to waste time hunting him down." The Girl from 2 whined. Thorin took a deep breath, trying to keep his anger at bay somehow. Durin may have been a traitor, but at least he'd had brains. He felt like he was surrounded by imbeciles, although he knew that that wasn't the case. The other three wouldn't be here if they didn't have at least a certain degree of intelligence.

"I've _told_ you." He snarled. "He's dangerous. We have to hunt him down before he hunts us."

"He's a single man, Thorin." Beorn protested.

"And what happens when he teams up with Disson? Or Azog? He poses the greatest threat to us at the moment. Besides, we can't just let him run away without exacting some kind of revenge. My only regret is that we didn't get to Tauriel fast enough to finish her off as well."

"You're trying to set an example." Beorn observed. Thorin gritted his teeth. _Of course I'm setting an example, you dumbass._ He thought to himself, although he didn't give voice to his thoughts. _Did it really take you this long to figure that out?_

"Who're you trying to set an example for, Oakenshield?" The girl from 1 asked suspiciously.

"Everyone who needs a warning. I hope you're aware that we've only managed to get rid of a single tribute thus far, and Fili killed him. We're the goddamn Careers, the most powerful force in the arena. It's time to remind people of that."

 

It had been an uneventful day thus far. No human crossed their path, and so Fili and Kili were left to trudge along alone, talking quietly about this and that and anything that crossed their minds. It was slightly depressing, retracing their steps and going back where they had started, but they both knew that the Careers had to be stopped for them to win the games, and also that the two of them together were the only ones to stand a chance.

Kili had told Fili the plan that he and Tauriel had originally thought up together. But Tauriel wasn't here anymore, and now that he had Fili on his side, he could risk it. She would have been glad that he was following through with the idea, Kili knew. It felt like he was honouring her memory.

He had promised her he would win, had promised Tauriel as she lay pained and bleeding on the ground, he had promised his sister and his mother before he had left, so long ago now, he had promised Dori and Dwalin and oh-so-many people but now he wasn't sure if he wanted to live if that meant Fili was to die. He didn't know what had caused this change of heart, or perhaps he did, but didn't want to acknowledge it.

If this was love, he did not want it.

But oh, it did feel wonderful when Fili carefully, took his hand, shyly even, and Kili could listen to that soft, gentle voice for hours on end, and every time Kili met the blond's eyes, his heart clenched, but not painfully, not anymore now that he had Fili by his side. And that laugh and his dimpled smile, it gave Kili the urge to curl around the older tribute and protect him, it lit a fire in Kili's heart and made the brunet smile along.

By midday, they were weary to the bone, but had finally reached the forest at the foot of the mountain. Seeing as they could only head up once evening fell, lest the Careers trapped them while they were ascending, they decided to instead head to the river and replenish their water supplies. It almost felt like Kili was coming home, he knew his way around and it made him feel safer immediately.

"What's that smell?" Fili's voice was hushed, wary, though not scared. He looked around, like a wolf scouting for his prey, sniffing now and then. Kili sniffed as well.

"That's... Wait, that's sulphur! I know the smell, I know it from 12!" Kili snatched Fili's arm hurriedly, pulling him  back almost harshly. "Stop. Not a step further until we know what's going on here."

Fili's hand  very carefully closed around his, squeezing gently. For a few long moments they stood next to each other, hardly daring to breathe, as the smell of sulphur got stronger and stronger.

Suddenly, Kili's world exploded in a wave of heat and light that washed over him, leaving him breathless. He was sent flying by the sheer force of the explosion, thrown to the ground roughly and rolling for several feet in a cloud of dust and pine-needles.

"Get up, get _up!"_ Fili's voice sounded distant, and scared, why did Fili sound so scared? Someone was tugging on his arm, no, he wanted to stay here, his ears were ringing and blood was dripping into his eyes, his mouth was full of dust and he just wanted to lie here, why was that voice so insistent?

And then suddenly everything came back in a rush of smell and sound and with it came the pain, throbbing pain in Kili's skull and a sharper pain in his wrist. He heaved himself up, wheezing, scrambled back from the huge wall of fire that had risen up before them, ran after Fili, Fili's hand was clutching his sleeve, blood in Kili's eyes, every step sent another wave of pain through his skull, but he had to keep running, the fire was gaining on them, and the smell of sulphur made so much sense now, why hadn't they run earlier? But now everything smelled of fire and smoke and fear, and Kili was running, running, running...

Fili looked back, and his eyes were so wide, the flames reflecting in the flawless blue, and it was only at the sight of those eyes, scared and frantic, that Kili began to fully function again. His strides grew longer and longer, Fili speeding up to match his pace, and now they were sprinting side by side, their heavy breaths a steady rhythm, Kili's skull pounding with every step. He brought up the hand that was not clutching at Fili to wipe the blood from his eyes, but he couldn't stem the bleeding, the blood blocked his vision and turned his world red.

Fili looked back again, and by now clumps of grass at their feet were lighting up suddenly from the sheer heat of the approaching wall. Kili's breath was harsh, the heat, the dust and the exertion combined forcing all the air out of his lungs. He knew he couldn't keep going much longer, they'd be devoured by the flames...

Fili pulled his arm harshly, dragging him to the side and slamming them against a tree, throwing himself on top of the younger tribute and pinning him there. Another explosion shook the forest, a wave of heat and sound rolling over them again, but the tree blocked most of it. Fili remained pressed tightly against him, Kili clutching at him with all his might.

Kili screwed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the burning heat, the pain in his head and his wrist.

Then everything was still.

They were frozen for a moment in fear and relief, Fili a solid, warm presence across his front. Kili could feel the blond's chest rise and fall with quick, panicked breaths, could see the fear in Fili's eyes, but it was over, they were safe, weren't they?

Slowly, carefully, Kili shifted to wrap his arms around the smaller tribute, embracing him more than clinging to him in fear. Fili began to shake, and Kili, worming one hand underneath Fili's rucksack, began to rub his back slowly, calmingly. Taking a deep breath, Fili buried his face into Kili's shoulder, still shaking, but not crying, not yet.

"Is it gone? The fire, is it gone?" Fili's voice was trembling as well, but Kili could make out the words clearly, even mumbled into his jacket. He turned slowly to peek out beyond the charred tree.

The huge wall of fire was gone, obviously vanished somehow after the explosion. _Those cursed Gamemakers,_ Kili thought to himself. It wasn't natural, none of it. A few small fires still burned merrily, clumps of grasses and small bushes among the tall trees, but Kili knew that they wouldn't be allowed to spread.

"We're safe." He whispered into Fili's soft, golden curls, allowing himself a minute just to hold and be held by the blond. "We did it."

"I'm glad... so, so glad..." Fili's voice was hushed, and maybe he was even crying just a bit, but Kili felt tears pricking his own eyes with sheer relief at their survival. Fili looked up, blue eyes bright, but the fear had gone. "I'm glad you're alive, Kili."

_You._ Was Kili's first thought. He had said _you,_ not _me_ , not even _we._ "So am I." Kili whispered back, grip tightening slightly. His voice was clouded with relief. "You're alive. You're all right."

Fili leaned up ever so slightly, eyes bright, breath harsh from exertion and fear. For a moment Kili thought Fili might kiss him, and he was tempted to lean in and do it himself, but then Fili extracted himself from the brunet's embrace and the moment was gone.

"We need water." The other's voice was still soft, but firm. Fili's fingers came up to brush Kili's forehead, wiping away the blood. Kili winced at the touch. "Come on, Kili, we have to find water and get you patched up."

A mile or so off and completely unbeknownst to Fili and Kili, the Careers had collapsed onto a stone ledge, gasping heavily after their frantic flight from the wall of fire that had suddenly reared up in front of them. Of course, neither the Careers nor the young duo had known that they had very nearly met upon that narrow pathway in the woods, and would have, were it not for the meddling of the Gamemakers.

 

Fili and Kili soon came across the river, curving gracefully as if to meet them. Both shucked their rucksacks and shoes and Fili dug in their supplies for a rag to wipe away the blood with. Motioning to Kili to sit, Fili dipped the rag in the clear water, both dangling their feet in the river, feeling it lap at their feet.

"You look horrible." Fili grinned at him, taking his face gently between thumb and forefinger.

"You're one to talk." Kili replied, sticking out his tongue. Fili's hair was full of pine needles from when he had fallen to the forest floor in the aftermath of the explosion. His hands were scraped badly, although they were at least clean from having washed them just now. One trouser knee was torn, his knee skinned and covered in dirt. He looked worse for wear, but there was a smile on his face as he carefully began to wipe away the blood on Kili's face.

Although the blond was gentle, Kili let out a hiss of pain when Fili brushed the rag over his forehead. The older tutted gently as the brunet attempted to pull away from his grasp, tugging him back so they faced each other before continuing his work. Fili was thorough, but always gentle, pausing whenever Kili so much as twitched before continuing even more carefully.

"Done." Fili finally proclaimed, letting the rag sink. He still held Kili's face carefully in his grasp, his eyes just as soft and tender as his hands had been, dimples deepening as he smiled softly... and then the blond leaned in and kissed him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What can I say, I'm bad at slow burn.


	8. Of Leeches and Knives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The legendary plan is finally set in motion. But this chapter is mainly fluff and happiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You had no idea how hard this chapter was to edit. Writing wasn't a problem, but editing... whew. Also, with FiKi Week on tumblr and all that, I didn't really have that much time to work on this one.

Fili's lips were soft and warm, and the chaste kiss felt right, so _right_ that for a moment, Kili was lost in it, a wave of warmth closing over him. His breath stuttered as he carefully began to kiss Fili back, shivers racing down his spine, because it felt like the world had slotted into place with that touch, that promise of 'I love you' in their shared breath.

They broke apart slowly, resting their foreheads together, and Kili began to laugh although he didn't quite know why. Fili was smiling as well, that wonderful smile that Kili loved so much, and the brunet leaned in again to kiss the perfect curve of his lips gently.

When Kili pulled away, Fili's cheeks were flushed slightly, the blond's pale lashes fluttering against his cheeks. He looked up at Kili, so much happiness in that simple gaze that the brunet thought he might collapse from the sheer force of it. Kili reached out with one hand to brush his thumb over the blond's cheek softly, caressing his jawline before moving to trace his lips.

"You're gorgeous, Fee." He smiled, the nickname coming naturally to him. "So gorgeous and I... I love you."

Fili slid closer, wrapping his arms around Kili and burying his face in the younger's shoulder, pressing a small kiss to it. "So do I." He whispered, humming happily as Kili returned the embrace. "So do I," he repeated, voice turning fierce, "and I will never, ever, let any harm come to you."

 

Azog took a deep breath, revelling in the sight before him, the twisted, smashed body of a small, fragile tribute. She was from 12, he remembered. Azog made it his business to know his victims. It made killing so much more enjoyable, he decided as he twirled his mace easily.

The only bad thing about fighting with a mace was that it was over so quickly. Azog loved the theatrics, loved the pleading and the crying of his victims shortly before their end. The girl from District 4 had begged. That had been on the first day, back when he hadn't had any weapons and was left to strangle her with his bare hands.

She had seemed brave, that tribute, brave and proud, bordering on haughty, but all her courage was lost when faced with death. She had wept and pleaded, fought weakly, but Azog had not let go until she fell from his grasp, limp, neck bruised and blood trailing from her mouth.

This girl had been braver, accepting her death with a kind of grace that Azog almost admired. She had been unarmed, but she had ran until she could run no more and even then she had died with no more than a single, pained shriek when the mace had shattered her ribs. He wondered if her fellow District 12 would be as courageous.

Azog smiled as the sound of the cannon shattered the still dusk and turned, striding deeper into the forest. The breastplate he had found on the Cornucopia made his steps heavy and slowed him down, but he knew that it would be worth its weight in gold when he faced down the Careers and Disson.

 

The next day dawned rainy and cold. Neither Fili nor Kili were really motivated to do much, and their injuries prevented them from moving much. Kili had bruises all along his side from his fall in the aftermath of the explosion, and Fili's knee was a lot worse than it had seemed at first. They had been forced to put off their plan to kill the Careers temporarily, deciding it was best to find some sort of shelter and attempt to recuperate a little before heading out into the arena again.

They had found a small, dry cave not too far from the mountain, the entrance hidden by the undergrowth. It was cold at first, but Fili had figured out that smoke from a fire was near undetectable from outside, and soon they were warm and content in each other's arms.

Kili had his head pillowed on Fili's chest, listening to the regular, peaceful thrum of Fili's heartbeat. It was calming, the rhythm of it, the warmth underneath his cheek and Fili's hands combing through his hair and weaving small plaits into the wild mane.

"You have to take them out later, okay?" Kili murmured, the warmth and the calming movements making him sleepy.

"It will be my pleasure and privilege." Fili smiled back, dropping a kiss on the top of Kili's head. The brunet chuckled, pushing at Fili's uninjured knee with the flat of his hand. "Don't go all soppy on me, you dork."

Fili gave a mock-pout. "I thought you liked soppy?"

Kili shifted, leaning up to kiss away the pout, chuckling as he nipped at Fili's lips. "It can be very romantic at times." He admitted grudgingly, resting his chin on his hands and watching Fili attentively.

The blond began taking out the tiny braids deftly, smiling as he worked. He loved Kili's hair, the wild mess of it, how surprisingly silky it felt to his touch, the way it shimmered in the firelight, warm chestnut so unlike the darker, soft chocolate brown of his eyes.

"I love your smile," Kili interrupted the blond's musings, "have I told you that already?"

"Not yet, but judging by the way you kiss me every time I show even the slightest indication of smiling, I already guessed."

"Okay, I'm not _that_ obsessed with it." Kili protested, knowing full well that denying it was a lie.

"Yes, you are." Fili grinned back, tone teasing. "You most definitely are."

"And do you mind?" Kili's tone was deadly earnest, as if he was seriously considering that Fili might actually not like his affections. "Would you mind... Can I kiss you now? Again? I mean..."

"I don't mind at all, Kili," Fili interrupted his stutters, "and yes, I'd very much like that."

Kili leaned up to nuzzle Fili's lips. "Hmm, good, because I'd like that too."

Kili was gentle, he always was, hands threading through Fili's messy blond tresses as the older ran his fingers adoringly over the other's jawline. It was slow and sweet and perfect. Kili's tongue came out to tease Fili's lips carefully, and he sighed happily as Fili surrendered to him. Every touch, Fili's every tiny little shiver sent electric shocks through him, making his fingers tremble against Fili's cheek.

"We're never going to get out of here at this rate." Fili giggled as they broke apart again. Kili laughed, his head dropping to Fili's shoulder. "That's how we're going to win," he replied, shaking with suppressed laughter. "We're just going to stay in here and snog while the others kill each other off."

"We shall defeat them all with the force of our undying love!" Fili proclaimed dramatically, making Kili giggle even more.

"That..." Kili looked up, biting his lip to keep from breaking into laughter again, "is the worst plan I have ever heard of."

"Hey!" Fili jabbed the brunet between his ribs, but there was only teasing fondness behind it. "You try to come up with a better one before you criticise mine!"

"Okay, okay!" Kili put up his hands in mock-surrender. "I'm sorry, your plan is great!"

They fell into a comfortable silence again, Kili practically draped across Fili, the blond's arms around him. Fili was getting drowsy, and he was starting to doze as he sat there, leaning against the wall, a very warm and cuddly brunet in his lap.

"Fili?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I braid your hair?"  
"Why would you want to do that, wildcat?"

"I don't know. Your hair's just really pretty. May I?"

Fili smiled, arms tightening around the thin brunet for a second. "Yeah, okay."

 

Bilbo sniffled angrily as he zipped his jacket up even further, trying to shield his face from the biting wind and icy rain. He had decided to leave the Careers be for the time being, and set out on his own for today. It wasn't as if he was going to lose their trail; he'd just head back to the cave later. Getting rid of competitors was more important right now. If it went on like this, the Careers would find him out and kill him before he could flee near the end. It was mildly annoying, him having to come out here in this weather and all that, but Bilbo knew that it was necessary.

Now if only he could find someone worth coming out here for. Apparently all the other tributes had found some place to hide, or were simply too far away from the mountain. Bilbo did a quick headcount. Thorin was left, his friend from 1, the two tributes from District 2, Fili, Kili, Azog, the males from 6 and 10 and the females from 8 and 7. It was surprising that there were still so many alive now, five days in. The Capitol Viewers must be bored to death by now. True, the forest fire and the falling trees were probably only a few dangers of many that the tributes had had to face in the past few days, but shouldn't the field be pretty small by now?

Bilbo blew his nose into a handkerchief he had made from a dead tribute's shirt and slid his hand into his pockets to insure that the poisonous darts he had made were still there. _Something is very wrong here_ , he thought to himself as he jumped from tree to slippery tree. _Very wrong indeed._

 

Kili was shocked awake by the cannon sounding outside. The fire had burned down to embers by now, and, judging by the light falling into the cave, it was late afternoon already. He wondered briefly which poor bastard had died now, feeling a pang of sympathy for him.

Fili was still fast asleep, breathing soft and regular, lips parted slightly. Kili watched him, the blond's features relaxed like they almost never were when he was awake. He looked so peaceful that Kili was loath to wake him up.

In the end, Kili decided that he really had to wake the older if they wanted to follow through with their plan. Grinning, the brunet dropped into Fili's lap, digging his fingers into the blond's side cruelly. Fili shot up with a start, making a gargling noise somewhere between a grunt and a shriek, squirming away from Kili's tickling fingers.

Kili laughed, keeping the struggling blond pinned to the floor until Fili finally gathered his wits enough to flip them over, forcing the slim brunet's arms to the floor.

"What a way to wake someone up." Fili chided, flopping down to blanket Kili's body with his own, forcing the air out of the brunet's lungs with a whoosh. "Especially someone you love."

"Can you think  of anything better?" Kili grinned back, fighting to free himself from Fili's grasp. The blond seemed to consider Kili's question for a second. "A kiss, maybe?" He finally suggested, smiling slowly as Kili stopped fighting.

Sighing in mock annoyance, the younger leaned up to peck him on the lips. "Happy now?" he asked, wriggling out from under Fili and scrambling to his feet. He had to chuckle at Fili's pout, leaning down to help the other up. "You get a proper kiss once all the work is done." He promised. Fili grinned back, eyes dancing. "Kili Disson," and despite the brunet's words, he leaned in for another quick kiss. "You are going to be the end of me."

 

Kili tested the bowstring, giving it a twang before nocking an arrow and aiming at the cave entrance above them before nodding at Fili. The blond inclined his head in reply, eyes cold and flinty amid the harsh shadows the moon cast over his face. He picked up a branch nearby, snapping it loudly before dropping it again.

Kili waited with bated breath, hoping that the sound would be enough to alert the sentry. He heard Fili scuffle his boots next to him before both fell silent, listening carefully to the soft shuffling above.

Kili pulled the bowstring back to his ear as a dark silhouette appeared in the cave entrance, stark black against the white rock reflecting the moon. The bow gave a small, strained sound as Kili pulled the string to its limit. The sound was impossibly loud to Kili, as was the sharp twang when he let go.

The  soft swish and thud of the arrow as it hit its target made his heart flood with relief. The girl tottered, gargling as the arrow lodged in her throat, and Kili quickly followed it up with another one.

 _Please, no cannon, not yet, not until we're up there._ He prayed silently, and, just this once, the Gamemakers seemed to hear him, because the only sound was that of Fili hurrying over to the rock wall and climbing it quickly, Kili following him quietly.

By the time Kili hoisted himself over the last ledge to topple into the cave, Fili was already waiting. The body of the girl leant neatly against one cave wall, and Kili felt bile rise up in his throat at the sight of her still corpse. Fili handed him the arrows he had pulled from her body. His hands were covered in dark blood. The blond looked ill at ease, his discomfort visible even in the sparse light the moon cast over them.

As if in silent agreement, the two of them stole forward into the cave proper, knives clutched tight in sweaty fists, none of them noticing the small, dark shadow climbing up into the cave behind them.

 

Kili stilled his shaking hands, hovering his knife above the girls throat, much like he had with Tauriel. But this was different, this was murder. The girl's eyes shot open as he pressed the knife into her soft skin and she opened her mouth as if to scream, but Kili clamped his hand over it firmly, pinning her down and muffling her screams of fear and distress until she went limp underneath his grip, eyes glassy.

The blood was just as warm as that of the tribute Fili had killed before, when they had first met in the arena, but that had been different as well, Kili had been in danger and Fili had killed in his defence. But this, this was murder. Kili felt paralysed with disgust. What would his mother think, or his sister, when they saw him like this? What would they say if he came back after all of this, after they had seen him kill?

The knife slid from his grasp and clattered to the ground, and he turned away from the body of the girl, feeling like he was going to vomit, because she was never going to wake up again, see her family, grow old and happy, and it was his fault, his fault, his fault!

"Kili?" Fili's voice was gentle, hushed and so sweet, a stark contrast to the spray of blood covering his arms. How could he be the man Kili loved so much as well as Fili Durin, District 4 tribute, warrior, murderer?

"Kili!" Fili rushed over to gather Kili into his arms, uncaring of the sticky blood on both their hands. "Kili." He repeated, whispering it into the younger's hair, holding him gently. "Kili, I'm sorry you have to do this, it's okay, it's all okay..." Fili's whispers grew incoherent, only the occasional 'sorry', and 'I love you' distinguishable from the mumbles, but it calmed Kili down. He felt safe in Fili's arms, no matter the lives Fili had taken, and if that was sick and wrong somehow, so be it. If Fili said it would be okay, it would be. The brunet clutched at the blond's shirt for a moment before pushing him back gently, the horror having faded to a dim murmur at the back of his mind.

Fili sighed, relieved, as big, brown eyes blinked up at him again, the brunet beginning to stand and even managing a small smile. "I'm alright. Just... shocked. For a moment."

"You sure you're okay, wildcat?" Fili asked, keeping his voice deliberately hushed so he wouldn't spook Kili again.

Kili took a deep, steadying breath, helping Fili to his feet. "I'm okay." He replied, taking another deep breath before repeating the words as if to convince himself of them. "I'm okay."

"Good." Fili gripped Kili's shoulder tightly, blue eyes earnest. "I'll take care of Oakenshield, okay? You can leave now, if it's too much for you, I can catch up."

Kili nodded, having to laugh just a bit at Fili's concern. "I'm okay, Fili, I swear. You don't have to worry, I'm fine now. I told you, it was just a moment of shock." He nudged the blond in the ribs. "It's very sweet though, your concern."

Giving a thin smile, Fili turned away from Kili, knife slippery in his hand. It wasn't fine, he knew that, but now wasn't the time to argue.

Oakenshield was awake, Fili realised with a start, awake and carefully inching towards his sword, trying to make as little sound as possible.

 As soon as Thorin realized that Fili had noticed him, he lunged forward wildly, but before he could close his hand around the hilt of his sword, Fili barrelled into him, throwing him backwards. Quick as a flash, Thorin threw the slighter blond off, leaping to his feet. Fili threw himself forward, tripping Thorin and holding him down firmly as he crashed to the ground, pinning his arms and holding a knife to the tribute's throat.

"Let him go."

A new, unfamiliar voice, ringing hard and clear in the silence of the cave. Fili started, but didn't release his hold on Thorin, just looked up to identify the source of the voice. What he saw made his heart stop.

Bilbo, shy, tiny Bilbo, had taken advantage of Kili's distressed state to sneak up behind him, and had the taller brunet grabbed by the hair, holding a sword to his throat. Kili's knife lay, useless, on the floor at his feet. Kili was struggling angrily, snarling at his attacker, but the sword at his throat limited his movements.

"Let him go." Bilbo repeated, voice trembling slightly. "Drop your knife and let the man go, or..." he gulped heavily, obviously not at ease with the situation, but then his eyes hardened and his voice grew harsh again. "Or he dies." he finished, tugging at Kili's hair to indicate who he meant. Kili struggled harder, a thin line of red appearing at his long neck. For a long moment the only sound was that of loud, harsh breathing.

Fili's knife fell to the floor, the blond raising his hands in submission, still pinning Thorin's arms with his knees. He had more knives tucked into his jacket, and he knew he could reach them easily, but he didn't want to risk anything when Kili was in danger.

"How did you know we were here?" Fili sounded harsh, demanding, but Kili could hear the scared undertone, knew that Fili was stalling for time.

"I didn't _know_." Bilbo was back to trembling, his previous surety gone. "I saw."

A slow smile spread across Fili's face as he understood. "You're a leech." He realised. "You've been following us around, scavenging from the bodies, keeping us in sight, using us for protection. Clever."

"Not _you_." Bilbo snorted dismissively, as if the very idea were preposterous. "What use would that be? But yes, I've been following the Careers. And I fear I need that one for survival. So I would be very much obliged if you could, please, step away from him and leave. Now."

"How do I know you won't kill Kili anyway, as soon as Oakenshield is safe?"

"You'll just have to trust me." Bilbo replied. "And make no mistake, if you don't do as I say, he's dead anyway."

Fili glared at Bilbo for a moment before standing up slowly, picking up his knife and tucking it back into its sheath. Oakenshield drew a shuddering breath and crawled away slowly as Fili walked towards Bilbo, hands still held up, palms open.

Bilbo seemed relieved to let Kili go, kicking away Kili's knife before letting him sag to the ground. Fili leapt forward, gathering him into his arms and taking the brunet's face in his hands as the younger coughed and rubbed at his neck.

"Are you alright?" Fili whispered, tapping their foreheads together briefly before shooting Bilbo a quick glare. Kili nodded, still fighting for air. "I'm fine, Fee, I'm not hurt. Let's go, please, can we go?"

Fili nodded and helped him up gently, the two of them vanishing into the darkness beyond the cave. Bilbo gave a relieved sigh as the scuffling of their boots faded and turned towards Thorin.

"Well. Thorin Oakenshield."

 

"I'm not helping you." Thorin repeated stubbornly.

"Ungrateful bastard." Bilbo muttered to himself, peeking out the cave entrance to make sure Fili and Kili were well and truly gone.

"Thank you for helping me get rid of the two lovebirds, but I'm not helping you, by Mahal! Why should I?"

"Helping? _Helping?"_ Bilbo spluttered incredulously as he turned towards Thorin. "I saved your sorry arse, Oakenshield, bloody _saved_ it!  As for why, well, why not? I'm offering you the only chance of an alliance that you'll get!"

"Why not? You're fucking useless, that's why not!" Thorin roared, not even caring anymore that he was probably leading half the arena straight to their hiding place.

" _Fucking useless?"_ Bilbo rounded on the taller tribute angrily, drawing himself up to his full height and making Thorin shy away, surprised. "I am _far_ from useless, Oakenshield! That tribute that died yesterday? I killed him, on my own, without any help from YOU, you stuck-up, loud-mouthed _arse!"_

He lifted up a smooth, wooden dart, almost shoving it up Thorin's nose. The tip glistened with some kind of fluid. "You know what this is? This thing is poisoned, I killed that blundering lad with it yesterday, and if I shove it up your bossy ass right now, you'll be dead within minutes, and then those cannons will be sounding for _you."_

Thorin was too scared to move, frankly, not having expected this sudden fit of rage. Bilbo deflated slightly, stepping back as if he just now realized how uncomfortably close he was to Thorin.

"Well?" His tone was still challenging, but calm. "Should I just save myself the bother and kill you right now, or will you help?"

 

"We did it." Kili murmured in wonderment, looking up at the field of stars above him. The wind whipped around his form, pulling at his hair and his clothes as he turned to Fili, smiling brightly.

"We did it, Fili! We're going to win, I know it, we're going to live!" He hoisted Fili up, spinning him around and laughing at the older's surprised yelp. Fili was glad to see Kili happy again, after what had happened in the cave. The relief and triumph of their success seemed to drown out his shock and self-hatred, at least for now.

Kili let Fili down slowly, still beaming as he leaned in for a kiss. It had been Fili's idea to go up to the top of the mountain together, the blond simply wanting to indulge in Kili's company for once instead of rushing on in this crazy flight from their sure demise. Definitely one of his better ideas, he decided as Kili's lips met his, stubble scratching softly against his skin. Up here with Kili was definitely a better place to be and a better thing to do than fighting for his life in the Hunger Games.

He took Kili's hand in his, kissing the knuckles one by one before leading him over to a ledge overlooking the arena. The stars were beautiful from up here, bright and clear. He had only seen them like this out on the ocean, far from human civilization.

"Do you think they're real?" Kili wondered aloud as they stood on the rocky outcrop, fingers entwined.

"What?"

"The stars." Kili explained softly. "Do you think they're real, or just another projection?"

"I quite honestly don't know." Fili replied after a moment of thought, pulling Kili down to sit on the ledge. Kili rested his head against the blond's chest, eyes still on the clear night sky. "But they're beautiful," Fili continued, leaning back ever so slightly to look up, "aren't they?"

"Hmm, yeah." Kili lifted one hand as if to pluck the stars from the sky. "I never really noticed until now, but there's more of them here than in District 12. They're prettier, too, somehow, brighter."

Fili shrugged. "Less light pollution, I guess. Besides, as you pointed out, they might not even be real."

"Well, they're damn good fakes, then." Kili chuckled, sighing happily as Fili's arms circled around him. "And I guess we'll just take what we can."

"I'm happy with what I have right now, in my arms." Fili replied almost on instinct, smiling as Kili shifted to look up at him, grinning widely. "Awww," the brunet chuckled, "how romantic."

"Glad you think so." Fili laughed back, Kili pulling him down slightly to kiss the tip of his nose. "Not good enough, though." The brunet decided. "You're going to have to do better than that."

"What, love poetry or something?"

"Love poetry could work, yeah."

"Um... His eyes are like lakes, clear as glass..." Fili began, tone exaggeratedly dramatic.

"Lakes, honestly?" Kili laughed, the sound warm and happy, making Fili smile as he smacked the back of the brunet's head.

"I haven't even started yet, so shut up, will you?"

"Okay, I shall quietly and reverently listen to your heavenly poetry. No interruptions, I swear."

"Good. So... His eyes are like lakes, clear as glass, reflecting the moon and the stars above, and his smile is the kindest in all of the land, his beauty and bravery... uh, his beauty and bravery... shit, what rhymes with land?"

Kili giggled, patting Fili's thigh. "Don't worry, that was very sweet, even if you couldn't find a rhyme for 'land'. Although 'glass' and 'above' don't rhyme either. You obviously missed your calling, oh god of poetry and king of my heart."

Fili snorted. "King of your heart, huh? That's a title I can get behind."

"The sun's going to rise soon." Kili changed the subject, pointing at the horizon. The dark velvet of night was slowly fading, making way for a lighter blue. "Can we stay here until it's up?" Kili asked, looking up at Fili like a forlorn puppy.

Fili started playing with Kili's hair again, glad that the brunet had seemingly forgotten about the events of the night. "If you want, wildcat."  
"I'd like that." They both watched the sky fade to streaks of blue and pink, the clouds awash in pearly light, and simply enjoyed the time they had together.


	9. It's a Start

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tragic Backstory Unlocked! and Kili being philosophical.

Kili's euphoria at their success didn't last long. He grew quieter and quieter the further down the mountain they got, tugging distressedly at the bandage around his neck. His eyes were dark, haunted and scared, as if the ghosts of the dead tributes were flitting past behind them, screaming at him, pulling him down.

Fili didn't know how to help him. Reassurances and talking could only bring Kili so far, and, in this case, he wasn't sure if they would help at all. Kili was completely silent, answering Fili's tentative questions with a shake of his head, trudging on relentlessly. He was pale and shaken, so unlike his usual cheerful self that it made Fili's heart ache.

"Kili?" The blond tried again, knowing full well that the younger wouldn't answer, but he was determined to at least try.

The brunet shook his head, steps quickening, but Fili hurried after him, not wanting to leave Kili alone with the dead. He reached down, entwining their fingers carefully as he drew alongside the brunet. Kili flinched at the touch, pulling his hand away. Fili frowned in confusion and worry.

"Kili?" He repeated nevertheless, desperation colouring his voice. "Please?"

Kili stopped, a dark silhouette against the brightness of the early morning sky. His shoulders were tense, back stiff. "Yes?" His voice was hoarse, as if he had been crying, but at least he was speaking. Fili walked up to him slowly, resting a heavy hand on his shoulder. Kili seemed to sag at the touch, letting out a shuddering breath.

"Kili, please, don't shut me out. I can help."

"No." Kili brushed off the blond's hand, but didn't move. "I don't think you can."

"You think I don't understand what you're going through? Do you honestly think I didn't have exactly the same problem at first? I _know,_ Kili. I know it's painful, and I'm not going to lie, it isn't going to go away, but you can't let it get to you."

"You don't understand." Kili remained stubborn. "No-one does."

" I think I'm the one person in the world who _does_ understand! I can make it less painful for you, easier." Fili promised.

"I don't want it to get easier. If I can kill without remorse, I'm going to lose all my humanity. I'll take the pain if it means I'm still alive, I'm still thinking, I still have some sort of conscience."

Fili let out an angry noise, spinning Kili around to face him. "You're a _fucking_ drama queen, you know that? I may not know exactly what's going on in your head, but I damn well understand, I've gone through it myself, if I might remind you! Now stop running away and _talk to me_. Please, Kili, I love you, but _shit,_ you're being difficult right now.I don't want you to close yourself off and kill yourself with guilt!"

The brunet didn't reply, but at least he didn't walk away, which Fili counted as a small victory.

"Please, Kili." He whispered, resting one hand on Kili's shoulder again and the other against his cheek. "Talk to me, at least do that."

Kili gazed at him for a long moment, hazel eyes suspiciously bright. The haunted emptiness hadn't left them yet. Slowly he turned his face into Fili's hand, a whimper leaving him as he screwed his eyes shut, tears rolling down his cheeks. Fili took the younger in his arms gently, hushing him as Kili put his arms around the blond, grip tightening as he sobbed.

Kili didn't cry for long, too aware of the cameras filming them and the enemy tributes still in the area. He pulled himself out of the embrace and clutched Fili's hand instead, pulling him along the path as he began walking again.

"I'm sorry, Fili. I must seem like a wuss to you." He began regretfully, fingers tightening ever so slightly around Fili's.

"You're not a wuss." Fili assured him. "It's not easy to kill someone, especially when you aren't in the heat of a fight and don't have to defend yourself. I know how I felt back then. Tainted, inhuman, as if I should be the one to die and not that poor, poor lad. He was so scared, his breath was shaking, as if his lungs were trembling... It was horrible. I don't want you to have to go through that."

"But I am, aren't I?" Kili's voice was hushed. "You can't stop it, Fili, you can't protect me in the arena. You can just... I don't know, stay with me. Please, stay with me?" He looked up at the blond, eyes still damp, but his voice was firmer now, his breathing calmer.

Fili took a long look at Kili, at the man he loved so distraught, and it sent another pang through him. "That won't be a problem." He replied, remembering his own first kill, and the second and third, and that girl Kili had shot, that had been his fault too, right? The memories made him want to curl up and cry, cry until he had forgotten the accusing glares of the people whose lives he had taken so coldly. He couldn't though. Before, it had been the cameras, the lurking danger, the inevitability of the act that had helped him keep it together, but now it was Kili, he had to be here for him, couldn't afford to wallow in self-pity. They were each other's lifeline now, and that fact lent him strength.

"They forced us." Fili pulled Kili to a halt, looking at him as if he could save his life by it. "We had no choice, Kili, you're not a bad person because of it. This is their fault, not yours, they're the murderer."

Kili smiled shakily, and Fili brushed the brunet's cheeks gently, eyes earnest. "I love you. You know that, right? I love you, and we can get through this."

 

"We don't _need_ a trap." Thorin scowled and crossed his arms. "I can defeat foes _without_ them dangling defenceless from trees."

"Shut up, Grumpy, and help me." Bilbo was almost regretting his decision to help Thorin. Perhaps it would have been better if Bilbo had just let Fili and Kili take care of him. The older tribute had done nothing but grump and complain until now, and, if he thought about it, Bilbo had been getting by quite well on his own.

"Why do you even need me? Why don't you just let me leave?" Thorin continued to whinge, but at least he was helping Bilbo set up the trap instead of being generally useless.

Bilbo shrugged. "You can protect me in case we're attacked. You have the most basic survival skills, and more really isn't needed. Besides, letting you go is the stupidest thing I could do. I'd rather kill you on the spot than have you out there again."

Thorin snorted. "I thought you said you could take care of yourself?"

Bilbo sighed. "I said that I can kill people on my own. If I have the advantage of sneaking up on them, there's no way I'll lose, but I'm rubbish at hand-to-hand combat, so here you are, my knight in shining armour, to defend me in case I'm attacked."

"How d'you know I won't just leave?"

Bilbo gave him a tight smile. "You're too honourable to leave, Oakenshield. We have a deal, you're going to see it through. There's no way you're going to betray me."

A loud crack interrupted Bilbo, and the two tributes froze, Thorin unsheathing Orcrist with a metallic slither as they looked around for the source of the noise.

Bilbo gave a small shriek as there was a movement down the path, a boy appearing around the bend and sprinting towards them. He reached for Sting, knowing full well that he had no chance, fear keeping him rooted to the spot as the enemy tribute raced towards him.

"Move!" Came the harsh command from behind him, pulling Bilbo out of his trance. The small tribute stumbled away, watching on in transfixed horror as Thorin leapt forward, meeting the tribute's swing with Orcrist, a clash sounding through the clearing. Bilbo gave a squeak, hurrying over to a tree as fast as his legs could carry him and scaling it quickly, eyes still trained on Thorin.

The other tribute was good, parrying Thorin's strikes and even managing to throw in a few blows of his own, though Thorin managed to stop them all with a grace and ease that was almost beautiful to witness. The other tribute was smaller, lighter, dancing around Thorin, jabbing at his heavier foe, ducking underneath Thorin's swings.

To Bilbo's surprise, Thorin didn't lose his temper and throw all caution to the wind, something Bilbo would actually have expected of him. He remained calm, his movements smooth as ever, letting his enemy power himself out, parrying the strikes and adding a few token swings of his own to make it seem as if he were still trying.

Still, couldn't let something this important come down to Oakenshield's sword-fighting skills, Bilbo decided as he rummaged through his pockets for his blowpipe.

 

He was good, surprisingly so, but then again, he had to be to have survived this long. Thorin managed to draw first blood, but it was a mere scratch, his adversary hardly even stumbling before moving forward again, all the more determined. Thorin hissed as the other tribute managed to dodge past his guard quickly, blood dripping into Thorin's eyes as the other opened up a gash on his forehead, quickly followed up by another to his shoulder before his adversary drew back again. The dark-haired tribute didn't allow himself even a moment to wipe the blood out of his eyes. He _had_ to win. Thorin cursed his heavier physique as his enemy darted out of reach yet again, but the boy's movements were slower now, weren't they? The tribute stumbled slightly, arm trembling, and Thorin grinned as he moved in, a quick flurry of blows the other could easily block before he drew his arm back for the death blow...

The other tribute leaped forward, sword pointing at Thorin's vulnerable side, and the Thorin cursed himself, of course it had been a trick, he should have known... sparks sprayed as their swords met, the scraping sound of two blades against the other as Thorin managed to deflect the sword point at the last minute. Before he could gather himself, his adversary turned to ram his shoulder into Thorin's other side, knocking the older off balance. Thorin stumbled and fell, but at least he hadn't lost Orcist. The other raised his sword and stood frozen like that for a long minute, a mad grin on his lips. Then he swayed ever so slightly and fell forward with a loud thump, Thorin managing to push away the sword point as his opponent fell on top of him.

Thorin lay completely still, the dead tribute draped over him. His breathing was calming somewhat after the fight, but his hands still shook. Finally, he tossed the corpse off, rolling over and standing before inspecting his adversary, confused. A healthy man didn't simply fall over dead, not like this.

The answer was quickly found, a smooth, black thorn in the back of his neck. The veins around the puncture were pale purple, and Thorin brushed over them in wonder. _What has Bilbo used to make these?_ , he mused, completely missing the thump behind him as his ally jumped down from his hiding place, landing just behind Thorin.

"You're very welcome." Bilbo prompted to make Thorin aware of his presence, the taller tribute spinning around in surprise.

"I had him," the dark-haired tribute growled up at him before standing and holding out his hand. "Still, thank you, Master Baggins. It appears I was mistaken, and I apologise for that. You're... alright."

"You're not all that bad yourself." Bilbo grinned back, shaking Thorin's hand. "Also, I would've been skewered in seconds if you hadn't defended me like that."

"Are we even then? With the whole life-saving-thing?"

Bilbo pretended to give it a moment's thought. "Not quite. But it's a start."  
Thorin's lips twitched, the closest he had come to smiling so far. "Well, looks like we're stuck together until then."

 

The smoke stung in Kili's eyes, making them water, the heat from the fire just barely tolerable on his skin. It astounded Kili that he wasn't scared or at least wary after the forest fire two days ago, but apparently the need to eat and the protection a fire offered overpowered any fear he might have.

"Kili," next to him, Fili had already started eating, wolfing down the meat Kili had cooked for them. "This tastes amazing. Seems I'm not the only one to miss my calling."

"Nah." Kili pulled his own dinner out of the fire, motioning for the bread as he poked the meat with his finger. "I was always more the hunter type, cooking is just something I picked up from my mum."

"You picked it up damn well, in that case." Fili grinned, tossing him the bread he had asked for. Kili caught it, inclining his head in thanks. "Well, who am I to argue?" The brunet chuckled.

" _Exactly_ , I am now the sole judge of your cooking skills." Fili proclaimed past his mouthful.

"A poet and a cook, what a pair." Kili shook his head, smiling. He was surprised that laughter still came so easily to him, after all he had been through and all that was to come. He felt guilty, sometimes, for how easy it was to forget the dead when he was in Fili's company, as if he wasn't honouring their memories right.

  "A good pair." Fili decided firmly. Kili nodded, forcing the images of Tauriel out of his mind, her glassy eyes and bloody hands. "The best." He declared, grinning up at the blond.

Silence reigned while they were fully occupied with good, hot food, a rare luxury in the arena, but one they had decided they earned after last night.

"What did you want to do?" Kili interrupted the comfortable silence, setting aside the remains of his meal. "I mean, what were your plans for when you were older? In District 4." _Talk about something,_ he begged silently, _something normal._

Fili gave a strained smile. "I volunteered, Kili. This, right here, is what I wanted to do, what I prepared for my entire life, what I built my future around. I was so stupid. A mere child, overexcited and eager to prove myself, and people indulged me, because that's what we do in District 4; we indulge the children and let them fight, and then send the one with the best chances of winning into the arena. I regret it now. I should just have stayed at home, found myself a good ship to work on, help my mother repair the nets. I might have saved up enough for my own boat one day." Fili gave a sigh, staring wistfully into the fire.

"I miss the sea," Fili murmured, "I miss the sound of the waves, and I miss it's incredible, unpredictable beauty. I wish I could take you there, take you home. The sea's so beautiful, stretching on endlessly, blending into the sky in the distance. Everyone else always curses and worries when a storm comes up, and I understand why, it's dangerous to be out there when the sea is that rough, but it's so breathtaking, dark and angry, ready to drag you down into its depths. The sea, to me... it's freedom, no-one can control it... not even the Capitol. I don't think I'll ever see it again, see home again." Fili pulled his knees up to his chest, sorrow clouding his features, but it cleared when he looked up at Kili.

"What about you? What did you want to do?"

Kili shrugged. He had never really thought about it. The options in District 12 were rather limited. "I don't know. I guess I would have been sent into the mines. Maybe I'd have had some kind of accident and be relieved from duty, but I'd probably spend my life down there and end it in the same place."

"Okay, so that's what _would_ happen, but what do you _want_ to do?" Fili cocked his head to the side curiously, raising his eyebrows at the brunet.

Kili let out a long sigh. "I really don't know. I never considered it. I... I guess I'd like to help people. People like my sister, who're sad all the time for no reason and don't really know how to live anymore. I don't think anybody deserves that fate, to not be able to enjoy life. I just want to make her happy again, but I think I made it worse."

"What, by being chosen?" Fili sounded incredulous, "Hell, Kili, there's nothing you could have done!"

"I know, I know. It doesn't change the fact that I did. There are some things that you can't help, but they still happen, and they still matter." Kili passed a hand over his face tiredly, rubbing at his eyes."I don't know, Fili. Maybe it's best this way, maybe I deserve it. I don't know what the hell else I should be doing except this, right here."

Fili shook his head. "There is no way you deserve this, Kili, no matter what would have happened if things were different. You deserve as full a life as you can get."

"I don't know if it's that bad." Kili smiled at the blond. "At least I found you, huh?"

"I'd rather you live to old age without me than that you die tomorrow by my side." Fili admitted, burying his head in his hands.

"Hey, I'm trying to be romantic here!" Kili chuckled, swatting Fili on the back of his head.

"And I'm trying to be realistic." The blond sighed, looking up. "I'm sorry, Kili. I'm a bit of a downer at the moment."

"Ah, seeing as one of us is going to die in the near future, you're excused. We're both being a bit tragic today." The younger grinned, standing up and dusting off his trousers.

"How gracious of you to forgive me for my grievous mistake." Fili followed suit, getting to his feet and kicking dirt over the fire to stifle it. "We should get going."

"Yeah, that's what I was thinking." Kili leaned down to pick up his rucksack. "Still lots of dangers to face before we win."

"Um, Kili?" Fili was pointing to the place where the rucksack had been lying. A coil of pale yellow smoke was curling up lazily from the ground, slowly  spreading, hanging low over the dirt.

"Should that be happening?" Fili looked ready to run, and, to be honest, Kili was pretty sure that was the right course of action as the smoke poured out quicker and quicker, spreading rapidly.

"Run!" Kili grabbed Fili's sleeve, dragging him along through the forest. "Don't breathe it in!" he commanded, looking back. The smoke seemed to be following them purposefully, spreading faster than they could run. Soon it reached their knees, and they were forced to stumble along almost blindly, unable to see the forest floor past the thick smoke.

Kili pitched forward as his foot got caught on something, falling with a small shout. The yellow fog enveloped him, stinging in his eyes, and he scrambled up again, taking a deep breath of fresh air as he ran on, following Fili. The smoke reached the blond's hips by now, and the two of them were tripping ever more often on rocks and roots and bushes; they seemed to have unintentionally left the path, and the ground was treacherous here.

Fili tripped once more, almost going under, but he managed to catch himself, steadying himself against a tall tree. He threw Kili a glance, questioning and scared. "We can't run away from something like this." The blond decided as Kili drew alongside him, sounding surprisingly calm for a man who looked so harried. Kili followed Fili's gaze as he looked up the tree he was leaning against.

"What if the smoke rises up? We saw how quickly it can spread, it'll just rise up further and we'll be done for."

"We'll be done for anyway if we stay down here!" The first sign of panic bled into Fili's tone as he tugged at Kili's sleeve anxiously. "Come on!" He leapt up, catching a branch and swinging himself up further, and Kili followed him, cursing.

The bark was rough underneath his hands, sap making them sticky, but Kili didn't pay any attention to it, pulling himself up frantically, climbing after Fili as fast as he could. The blond had years of experience scaling the riggings of sailing boats, experience that came in useful now, but Kili wasn't so as good a climber. As the brunet had feared, the smoke rose up with them, lazy tendrils curling around his ankles as he climbed.

Above him, Fili waited for a moment, letting Kili draw alongside him before they continued together, trying to keep ahead of the yellow fog, but it spread even quicker than before, soon up to their knees again. Kili's palms were damp with sweat, his feet scrambling madly for some kind of hold as he pulled himself up ever farther. He slipped once, but Fili caught him, tugging him up until he had found his footing again, and continued the climb. They couldn't escape the smoke though, it swirled up ever higher until they were surrounded by it, climbing on with held breath, lungs bursting as they blindly searched for hold. They were both covered with sweat when they finally broke out of the oppressive yellow mist again, breathing in the clean air deeply. Fili reached up to try and see if the next few branches could hold their weight, shaking his head at the brunet with a grimace. Kili looked down at the yellow cloud. There was nothing for it but to hope.

"I... I remember that gas. They used it... in the war." Fili panted, horrified. "It was everywhere, all the time, and this one's the same, I'm sure of it. It smells the same. When you smelled it back then, the people around you would begin to die."

"Not this time." Kili grinned at the blond, reaching over to squeeze his shoulder. "I think it's stopped spreading. We're safe."

"I wouldn't be so sure of that if I were you." Fili glanced down, the view entirely obscured by the yellow fog. It was still spreading out sideways, but didn't seem to be rising anymore. He wasn't ready to celebrate yet, though; he had learned not to trust the Gamemakers.

Kili interrupted his thoughts, a frown almost audible in his voice. "What happened? During the war, I mean."

Fili sighed. "I was three at the time. I don't remember much, but I know most of what happened from mum. I still get nightmares sometimes, those are my only memories from that time. It's where I remember the gas from."

"District 4 was bombed," he continued, "much like the other Districts. They sent in ships and planes. Everyone who tried to flee was killed; we could just huddle around and hope for survival. They broke us pretty quickly, that's why we're so well-off now. We were one of the first districts to fight on the side of the Capitol after the rebellion failed for us. My father died as he fled from the bombs with my mum. Another man helped her get to safety, supported her during the war, but as soon as the bombs stopped falling, he fled." Fili felt tears come to his eyes at the memories. "I had a brother, you know," he continued, voice hoarse, "I had a wonderful older brother, and he died for me. I couldn't protect him. It was this gas, it killed him. I had a mask, he'd picked it off one of the bodies, but he gave it to me, to protect me, and he died for it. I don't quite know if my mother has forgiven me for it, maybe she blames me, in the depths of her heart. Mahal!" He sighed, resting his tear-streaked face against the tree trunk, Kili sliding over to rub the older's back comfortingly. "I had a brother, and a father, and I lost them both." Fili shook his head slowly. "I'm sorry, Kili. I'm sorry, I shouldn't be getting like... like this."

"Don't worry about it. The war... it took its toll on all of us. I lost my father too, to the bombs in District 12. He just wanted to help people, get them to safety, but he died, and we all lived, by some miracle. War doesn't care who it's victims are, there's no telling who lives and who won't. The dead are forgotten, the fathers and mothers, uncles and nephews and daughters and sons, their bones trampled by the living desperate to live just a little longer. The victors stand up from the ashes, looking around at the wreckage and ruin and speaking of a new world, even while, amid the remains, the killing and the dying goes on. We raise houses out of the dust and we remember, sometimes, and life continues, and it's a little emptier than before, a little darker, but the survivors grow old, and the memories are now tales told by the fireside. It's forgotten, the feeling of it, and we just continue, like always." Kili fell silent, sighing deeply as he looked down once again.

"It's growing thinner," he commented, "the smoke."

Fili nodded. " _Would_ you look at that. Let's see how long we can keep going like this."

Kili elbowed Fili in the ribs. "Wow, you're being cheery today!" he laughed. "Come on, let's get down from here, I think it's safe."

"Can we stay up here for a minute? Please? I want to stay with you for just a moment."

Kili smiled as he settled down again, reaching over to grasp Fili's hand. "Okay," he sighed, "I forgive your endless moping around in face of the occasional romantic mood swing."

"It's not _endless_ moping around, and I'm _always_ romantic." Fili protested mildly, a weak attempt at humour. "And shut up or I'll push you off the tree."

 

Kili awoke the next morning with Fili's warm form nestled along his back, the blond's arms settled securely around his waist. He tried to wriggle closer, and smiled at the little groan Fili gave off. The blond's arms tightened around the younger's midriff as he nosed Kili's neck gently. Kili lay one hand over Fili's larger ones, fingers entwining as he tangled their legs together. Fili gave another small grunt as he leaned forward, still half-asleep, and began pressing small kisses against Kili's hairline and neck. The brunet smiled at the attentions, humming happily as he curled even further into Fili's warmth.

A twig cracked, the sound carrying through the still air, and immediately Fili was sitting up, disshelved but already watchful, one of his daggers clutched in his hands as he reached for his twin swords. Kili was slower to awake, he had barely even registered the sound, and hadn't quite gathered his wits yet. The brunet looked around blearily, looking up at Fili already standing with swords drawn, ready to defend himself if the need arose.

Kili yawned, tugging at Fili's trouser leg. "Fee, you're overreacting. It was prob'ly just an animal or s'mthing." He smiled up at Fili charmingly, briefly wondering where that knife in his hand had actually been hidden away. "Come back here?" he pleaded, blinking up at him. Fili smiled gently, but shook his head.

"Sorry, wildcat, not now. We should eat breakfast, and then get going. The finale isn't far off, I can feel it. It's brewing, and we don't want to be unprepared when it finally happens."

Kili groaned as he scrambled to his feet, tugging his dark hair into a messy bun. "One second in bed with my love, that's all I ask for." he grouched, beginning to pack up.

Fili smiled. "It isn't even a bed, Kili."

 

Not far off, Azog snarled as he watched the two of them pack up, chattering as they worked. He hadn't been quick enough, hadn't struck when the time was right, and Durin was too wary. He could have picked them off easily when they'd been asleep, but he had bungled somehow. The large tribute scowled. He would get them one day, he knew it. Nobody was strong enough to fight him if he just timed it right, not even the two lovebirds.

He'd get them. After all, he thought to himself as he loped off into the woods, he had all the time in the world.


	10. Finale

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fewer and fewer tributes are left, and it's time for the alliances to break up.

"We need food." Fili declared, rooting through his backpack with a frown. Kili looked over from where he was scuffing out the last embers of the fire.

"It's surprising that what I took from the Careers even lasted this long." Fili sighed, drawing a hand through his messy blond tresses. Kili came over, leaning down to drop a kiss on the top of his head. "We'll go hunting, then."

"I fear you'll have to go alone." Fili replied, accepting Kili's offered hand and scrambling to his feet. The older continued, "I don't have the weapons to go hunting. I'll try and find other edibles, okay?"

"Are you sure we should separate?" Kili frowned at the other. "I mean, you said it yourself, something's brewing."

"I said the finale, not something." Fili smiled, leaning forward to press a chaste kiss to Kili's lips. "Besides, I'm a trained fighter, not a pet crab. I can take care of myself."

"You keep crabs as pets?" Kili raised his eyebrows. "Aren't they the ugliest, most boring pets imaginable?"

"Not at all. Have you ever been to a crab race?"

"Can't say I have." Kili chuckled, inspecting the arrows in his quiver for damage and counting them again. "Anyway, if I want to find some kind of prey, I have to go now, while it's still early. Take care of yourself."

"Likewise," Fili grinned, "we meet back here at midday. Any later, and the other has permission to worry. Okay?"

"Deal." Kili hauled Fili close for a quick goodbye kiss, waving at him as he left, jogging through the trees and jumping over roots. Fili smiled at the brunet's retreating back, shaking his head fondly before shouldering his pack and setting off in the opposite direction.

 

He tried not to stray too far from the clearing, keeping an eye on the sun so he could get back in time. In general, he made a good haul, roots and berries those he stored in the small boxes the Cornucopia food had been in. The sun was nearing its zenith, so he decided to head back. He whistled cheerfully as he walked, momentarily forgetting the danger he put himself in by it.

Warmth flooded him as his thoughts drifted back to Kili. He still didn't quite know if to be upset or grateful that they had met, but he had decided pretty early on that he couldn't change it and any feelings he had about the matter wouldn't make a difference either.

Another thing he had decided was that he himself was going to die.

Kili would go back to his parents, Fili would see to that. He would defend the younger to his last breath. Kili probably felt the same way towards him, and wouldn't approve of Fili's plan at all, but Fili wasn't going to let that stop him. Kili would live, he decided as he bent down to a bush by the roadside. Kili would live, and Fili would die for him.

The snick of metal against leather tore him out of his self-satisfied mood. He whirled around in panic, dropping the berries he had gathered, hand coming to his sword. His vision narrowed as one thought expelled all others: _Danger._ He grabbed his second sword, twirling both threateningly as he turned to face his opponent.

A girl, he realized, tall, strong, heavy, armed with a sword. Longer than his, she had more reach, but he had two swords and he was quick, though maybe not quicker than her. Adrenaline flooded through him, the fight rising up in him, the need to protect himself, but also to prove himself.

The plan formed in his mind almost automatically as he began to circle, shifting his grip on his twin swords, subconsciously running through his remaining weaponry, the knives and small throwing axes, acutely aware of the weight of each item. Energy raced through him, he was sensing everything and nothing at all, the ground was springy beneath his feet, he could use that, he would provoke her, test her, he needed to know how quick she was, how strong. The sun was behind him, that was good, no roots, nothing to trip over, he was ready, he could win this, _protect Kili..._

A sharp prick at the back of his neck, a hand closing around his arm with a grip of iron. He stilled suddenly, fear swamping his senses, burying his earlier self-confidence under it. The smells and sounds faded, the world returning to normal, the fight disappearing.

His breathing was calm now. He was still standing ramrod straight, head tilted up slightly, not daring to move. _Kili,_ was his first thought, _I'm going to fail Kili, I can't protect him, why can't I protect him?,_ and closely following that line of thought was the knowledge that he was going to die now.

"Drop your swords. Both of them. Now."

Fili's hands tightened further around the hilts.

"Drop them." The tribute repeated. The pressure at the back of his neck increased.

After another moment of consideration, he dropped his swords obediently, raising his hands to show the girl in front of him empty palms. She nodded to her partner, seemingly satisfied. Fili nodded shortly, smirking smugly at her.

"Where are the other Careers?" The boy began, poking him to enunciate the question.

"Dead." Fili replied. He didn't have to answer them, but it would buy him time, and the questions were still harmless. As soon as he gave them the location of anyone, Fili knew, they would run him through and flee.

"How did they die?" It was the girl this time, scowling at him.

"I killed them." Should he feel proud now? Because all he felt was Beorn's dead eyes on him, the shame and the guilt and the fear he had felt when he had stabbed his former ally in the chest.

"Are you in an alliance now?"

Fili took a moment to consider his answer. Was it safe to be honest, or should he lie?

"Yes." He decided, hoping it was the right answer.

"Who's with you?" The girl's voice was sharp, demanding. "And where are they?"

Time was up.

The blond moved in a whirl, ducking under the weapon pointed at him while pulling his daggers from his sleeves and turning to ram into the tribute standing behind him. His adversary went down, breath knocked from his lungs, and in seconds, Fili was upon him, knife halfway to the lad's neck before he was tugged backwards by the girl, head pulled back and up by his hair. The blond snarled and kicked, but her hold was firm, arm strong against his chest, and she was taller and older and stronger than him. The male tribute forced Fili's knives from his fingers, handing one of them to his ally.

This was how it was going to end, then, Fili thought to himself. Alone in the arena, the man he loved endangered, throat slit like a panicked piece of livestock. This was how it was going to end.

Suddenly he heard a low thump, and then the girl's scream sounded in his ear, her grip tightening momentarily before she let him go. He landed gracelessly on the forest floor, confused, trying to gather his bearings. It didn't matter what exactly had happened, he decided as he saw his swords lying a short distance away. Fili leapt towards them, landing just short of the blades, fingers scrabbling across the forest floor.

A boot smashed down on his fingers, and he roared in pain, but he had trained for situations like this and his other hand flew down to his boot and grabbed the knife hidden there. He sunk it into the enemy tribute's leg, and the young man screamed in pain, the weight of the boot vanishing. Fili barely had the time to breathe out in relief and hope his fingers weren't broken, grabbing both sword hilts and stumbling to his feet to face his foe. The pain in his fingers was quickly forgotten as he whirled around to face the boy, aiming one sword at his adversary's ribs while thrusting at his exposed chest with the other.

The young man had a spear, both ends tipped with a metal blade. He blocked both Fili's blows with the shaft of the weapon, pushing him back with a thrust that Fili dodged easily. The blond danced backwards as the other lunged at him again and again, dodging where he could and blocking where he had to, trying to exhaust his enemy. The spearman couldn't move quickly, not with his injured shin, if only Fili could keep him moving...

A skilled spin of the double-ended spear sent a sting through his injured hand, and Fili yelped as he dropped one of his swords, just barely dodging the sharp tip of the spear.

With one sword gone, the fight suddenly turned to the spearman's advantage. Fili was hard-pressed to defend himself now, there was always one side that was unprotected, and his foe could quickly and easily alternate between the two. The blond wove this way and that, now trying to block the blows as often as possible instead of relying on dodging, his injured hand cradled close to his side. He tried more than once to get closer, so he could finally get his foe in range and deal out a few blows of his own, but his attempts were always cut off.

It was useless. He would need more than one weapon.

It was difficult, trying to fight off his adversary while fishing around for another knife somewhere on his person, but Fili was lucky, and he quickly found the weapon hidden down the back of his jacket and managed to pull it out. He distracted his adversary with a flurry of blows, moving out of the defensive, a great risk when his enemy had a double-sided weapon, but a greater risk would be to do nothing.

Pushing aside one spear-point, Fili leapt forward, ignoring the other tribute as he twirled the spear hurriedly, ignoring the shaft crashing against his chest and knocking the air out of him, ignoring the second tip as it opened a deep gash on his biceps, ignoring the pain and the fear and the utter recklessness of the idea, ignoring the panic in his enemy's eyes. Fili focused solely on the short blade in his hand, feeling flesh give under the weapon as it sank between the boys ribs.

The force of the movement sent them both tumbling to the ground. Fili was too exhausted to move, and simply lay blanketing his foe. Blood soaked into his jacket as he listened to the laboured breaths of the poor, dying lad, trying to ignore it all. Fili turned his head to the side, trying to focus on something else, anything, until he finally found the energy to move away, but the disgust was still there, because the disgust was at himself and he himself wouldn't go away.

Behind him, he could hear the clash of swords meeting, but he stayed motionless for another second, staring down at the dead tribute, the limp hand still loosely clutching the spear, the pale face, the dead eyes, and he wondered what the dead boy's family was thinking, and how they must hate Fili now.

He turned away quickly, bending down to take up his second sword again although his hand was still throbbing. His fingers were swollen and he couldn't get a proper grip on the weapon, but he found that he didn't care as he turned to face the couple still fighting in the clearing.

Kili was quick and strong, but he didn't have as much practice with the sword as with the bow, and it took all of his skill to defend himself, unable to risk attacking her. He was bleeding from his shoulder, but the wound didn't seem to bad, at least he could still hold up against her furious swings.

Fili leapt into the fight, eager to forget the rattling breaths of the tribute that had just died at his hands, dodging and blocking her blows, fighting together with Kili as if he had never done anything else.

There was no chance she could hold up against two other tributes, and within seconds, the cannon sounded once again, almost before her body hit the ground.

Kili was panting heavily, his sword hanging by his side loosely as if he could not bring up the strength to lift it anymore. His tangled mess of hair hid his face from Fili's view, but Fili could sense the pain he was in without seeing Kili's grimace.

The blond rushed forward, putting an arm around him to support him. Kili leaned against him gratefully, breath harsh and irregular. Fili frowned at him, concerned, pushing the younger's hair back so he could see his face.

"Kili?"

A quick smile flickered across Kili's pale face, their eyes meeting for a second before Kili screwed them shut in pain.

"Kili, oh shit, come on, sit down and I'll see what I can do, I'm sorry, this shouldn't have happened..." Fili continued babbling  as he led the younger to sit on a rock, rifling around in his rucksack for bandages.

A low hiss of pain left the brunet as Fili eased him out of his jacket, pushing the younger's shirt aside to see the full scope of Kili's injuries.

It was a single, deep gash in his left shoulder, reaching halfway down his chest, though thankfully she hadn't hit bone anywhere. It would probably heal up alright once the games were over and Kili got to the Capitol doctors. Until Kili could get help, however, Fili would have to do whatever he could.

He very carefully helped Kili out of his shirt, using the dead tribute's clothes and water from their flasks to wipe the blood from Kili's chest. Kili whimpered gently as the blond worked, although Fili was being as careful as possible.

It crossed his mind briefly that this was probably not a normal way to see your love shirtless for the first time, but then again, normality was a rare commodity in the arena.

Once most of the blood had been wiped away, Fili bound the younger's shoulder up tightly, hoping that it would be enough. He didn't have the means to do more. The blond looked up at Kili from his crouching position, for some absurd reason having to smile at the sorrowful sight Kili made.

The younger's hair, so silky and soft at the beginning of the games, was a wild, filthy mess, his clothing was torn, and he had a wide cut on his forehead from the forest fire. Kili was dirty, bloody and bruised, his torso covered in irregular blue blotches and bloody scrapes, but his eyes were just as vivid and sparkling as the day Fili had first met him, so long ago. They had been at the parade, both dressed in extravagant costumes, pretending to be someone they weren't for the cameras.

He was battered, and bruised, but he was still the man Fili had fallen in love with. The older reached up slowly, cupping Kili's face in his hand, pushing a few long strands of hair behind his ear. Kili gazed back, a soft smile lifting the corners of his lips. At any other time, Fili would have teased the brunet for his besotted expression, but now he just wanted to appreciate it, the tenderness in those brown eyes, the curve of Kili's lips, the utter adoration with which the other looked at him.

Fili sat up on his knees, and leaned forward to brush their lips together, smiling as Kili gave a soft hum before sealing his lips over Fili's more firmly. Fili's fingers tangled in Kili's hair, and the younger's hands automatically strayed to Fili's hips, a low grunt of pain disrupting their kiss as Kili attempted to move his injured arm.

Fili drew back, concerned, Kili making a small sound of protest as they separated. The blond chuckled, dodging back as the brunet made grabby hands at him.

"Come on, Fee, stop denying an injured man." Kili pouted, grinning as Fili moved to sit on his lap.

"The pain can't be that bad if you can still move enough to drag me back." Fili laughed, dropping a kiss onto Kili's nose. The brunet chuckled. "You have to kiss it better." He demanded, and Fili rolled his eyes, but humoured Kili anyway.

They both knew that the peace of the moment couldn't last.

There were only four tributes left. The net was closing in on them.

 

 

"How did you manage this?" Kili murmured as he inspected Fili's hand, probing the injured fingers gently. Fili grunted in pain, twitching but managing not to pull away.

"That idiot stepped on it." The blond nodded towards the dead boy, and Kili wrinkled his nose. "So you killed him." The brunet concluded. Fili nodded. "So I killed him."

Kili took a deep breath, looking up. "Okay, this might hurt, but I think one or two of your fingers might be dislocated, and I have to... yeah."

Fili raised an eyebrow. "Now when did I find the time do that? I'm pretty sure I could still move all my fingers when I was fighting."

"Must have managed to do it _sometime._ Fingers don't just dislocate themselves. Ready?" Kili waited for Fili's nod before gripping his hand firmly. He knew how to fix this, Dwalin had taught him things like this years ago, before he could even shoot.

Fili bit down on his other hand to keep from screaming, though a muffled sound still managed to escape him. His hand jerked away on instinct, but Kili kept a firm grip on it, not letting the movement disrupt his work.

"Done." The younger finally announced, reaching for a bandage and beginning to wrap it around Fili's hand firmly. The blond smiled at him. "Thanks." He whispered, and Kili gave a grin in return. "No problem," he replied, "just keep it kind of still and you'll be okay."

"Yes, nurse." Fili chuckled, getting to his feet and beginning to retrieve the weapons strewn about the clearing. Kili watched him, in awe at the many knives the other picked up, tucking them into various little pockets not even the brunet had noticed.

"There." Fili finally announced, making a brave attempt to smile at Kili, but the horror and the pain of the fight had returned, pushing its way to the forefront of his mind, and the grin was shaky and weak. "Let's go." Fili added, looking around at the dead bodies and reaching out for Kili. "We should get away from here." He had already turned his back on the clearing, tugging Kili along.

The brunet pulled away, extricating his hand from Fili's grip. Hurt flickered across the elder's face briefly, and it broke Kili's heart to see it, but the younger set his jaw, determined not to cave. The decision he had made was difficult, what he was about to say even more so, but it was the right thing to do, he knew it.

"We have to separate."

"What?" Fili gave a small snort, as if the very idea was utterly ludicrous. "We're not going to separate! I'm not going anywhere, and neither are you. Come on, let's get away from here"

Kili shook his head, eyes hard and flinty as he met Fili's. "There are hardly any tributes left. This was kind of the plan, Fee, we agreed  on it ages ago." He looked to the ground, sighing.  "Besides, I don't want to see you hurt. We _have_ to separate. Imagine the pain if we have to watch each other die."

"What if I don't care about the pain? Kili, I'm going to protect you." Fili frowned, fighting down the dread rising up in him. "I was always going to protect you. You can't run away now, please. You're going to go home, we'll make sure of that. _I'll_ make sure of that."

"You mean I will live?" Kili sounded angry at the very notion, his voice going high with disbelief. "I will _live?_ Fili, I'm not going to let you give your life for me."

"That was always my plan." Fili reached out, taking Kili's hands in his. "Please. I love you. And yes, I'd give my life for you, as long as you could go home again."

"No! Fili, _no_!" Kili's eyes were wide, and he drew back in shock, shaking his head wildly. "It doesn't work like that. If you love me, you have to _live._ Losing you... it would hurt so much, you can't begin to understand it. Don't put me through that, and don't try to use love as an excuse.. You dying for me, that isn't love, it's cowardice. At least admit that you just don't want to live with the guilt, admit that you can't handle the pain of living on instead of me."

Fili blinked, surprised at the reaction. "I'm sorry." He replied automatically.

"Yes, you are, but you still don't get it. Too much of a bloody hero to see what I mean." Kili smiled sadly. "Don't give up your life in vain, okay? I'm sorry, Fili. I love you, I truly do, it's just... it's better this way."

The brunet squeezed Fili's hands tightly and drew back, the blond feeling the grief and guilt of their parting already settling in his chest, a cold, hard knot. He was so stupid, he berated himself as Kili turned away, he had done everything wrong, how could he have messed this up?

He wanted to protect his love, he _had_ to, but suddenly Kili was telling him that the protection was unwished for. It stung, but in a way, Fili knew what the younger meant, just as well as he knew that he would, probably, react the same way if he was put in Kili's position.

Fili watched as Kili left, the younger's feet dragging slightly across the ground, as if reluctant to leave the clearing. He looked so scared, so small and alone that Fili was tempted to storm after him, but Kili had made his decision and Fili knew he had to respect that.

"Kili?" he called one last time, and the brunet turned, thank god, he turned, and Fili smiled, not actually knowing what he wanted to say, just knowing that he didn't want the man he loved to be upset, not now, not when they had so little time anyway. "Kili Disson." He finally announced, laughter bubbling in his chest involuntarily. "You are going to be the end of me."

Kili's lips twitched, asif he were unsure if he were allowed to smile properly. "Fili?" His voice was soft and careful, his words spiralling up through the leaves, so fragile that they seemed to break. "I think I love you."

And then he vanished between the trees.

"I think I know what you mean." Fili spoke to the trees, hoping that maybe Kili could hear him. "I think I know what love might mean, now."

 

That brute didn't even bother to hide. He came crashing through the forest, uncaring of the sound he was making, alerting everybody in his path to his presence, completely sure that nobody would dare apprehend him. Thorin smiled as he unsheathed Orcrist. He would teach Azog Defiler, he thought to himself as he spun his sword easily, a savage grin finding its way to his face. He would teach Azog humility soon enough.

For a few moments it was only Thorin and his breathing, calm and loud in the still forest, until Azog drowned those sounds out as he approached. Thorin would recognize that beast from a mile off, both Fili and Kili were too careful, too clever to crash through the trees like that, and Bilbo... _Oh, Mahal,_ suddenly cut through Thorin's thoughts. _Mahal, I hope Bilbo is alright._

It was the thought of Bilbo lying in a clearing, bleeding out slowly, that sent an angry tremor through Thorin, his mind clearing until it was only him and the enemy approaching, the weight of the sword in his hand, the shuffling as he moved into a steadier position. Azog was a threat to the person that had saved his life, and Thorin was going to stop him, finally settle his debt and be able to move on, to win.

Azog came into view, stepping out with long strides, confidently pushing aside branches and flattening bushes underfoot if they were in his way. His eyes were bloodshot, his nostrils flared, corners of his lips twitching up in a cold smirk as he saw Thorin standing firmly in the middle of his way.

The huge tribute drew a deep, rattling breath, as if soaking the scene in, Thorin giving a small snarl in return. They stared at each other, Thorin's icy glare meeting Azog's fiery excitement at the impending fight.

With a low roar, Azog ran at Thorin, covering the ground in a few long strides. Thorin shifted into a more secure stance, raising his sword to use Azog's force against him. The taller man delivered the first blow with his mace, Thorin blocking it easily and jumping forward to slam against Azog's knees, ducking under his arm and delivering a deep cut, but the brute stayed upright, not even swaying as he immediately swung his mace back, slamming it into the ground where Thorin's head had been a moment before. The smaller tribute slid through the wet leaves coating the forest floor, using his force to propel himself upward, turning towards Azog with a snarl on his face.

Azog launched himself at Thorin again, and the dark-haired tribute blocked two more violent swings, the force jarring him and sending painful shocks through his body. Thorin liked to think he was strong, especially for his age, but Azog's strength was sheerly impossible, even when one took into account his size and weight.

Thorin felt his arms shaking as he fought to block another blow, gritting his teeth against it before letting go suddenly, ducking beneath the heavy, spiked mace. Azog took a moment to recover from his confusion as the mace suddenly swung through thin air, but then he turned towards Thorin quick as lightning, the smaller tribute barely able to dodge the next strike.

Thorin cursed as he leaped aside again. He needed a plan, a way to defeat this tribute who was so much bigger, stronger and heavier than him, and just as swift. He was glad he had managed to get Azog riled up, driven him to recklessness. At least that was working out in his favour.

Thorin sidestepped another blow narrowly, but his close escape wasn't all bad; thinking this would be the death stroke, Azog had put even more force behind it than usual, and now the brute's weapon was embedded firmly in a root that had been beneath Thorin's feet. The smaller tribute used the moment Azog needed to wrench the mace free to look around for a moment, scanning the area for any advantages.

Thorin defended himself as the brute rounded on him once again, until his arms felt ready to fall off and he wanted nothing more than to collapse in exhaustion, but a steady trickle of blood was making its way down from Azog's shoulder to his wrist, and the sight gave him renewed strength whenever he felt ready to give up.

He felt so stupid, so basic and animal as he fought for his life, as if there was a solution somehow, but it was just out of reach and he couldn't quite grasp it. There _had_ to be some kind of way out, probably even quite a simple one, a way to overcome Azog's physical advantage, but no matter how Thorin racked his brain for some kind of plan, any ideas evaded him.

Azog used the smaller tribute's distraction to trip him up, Thorin falling to the ground in an ungainly heap, immediately scrambling to get up again, or at least out of the way of Azog's mace. He managed to roll away at the last moment, the spikes grazing his shoulder, tearing open cloth and flesh alike. The cuts were deep and wide, and Thorin bit back a howl of pain, metallic blood filling his mouth as he bit his tongue. The blood dripped onto his chin, soaking the scruff there as Thorin ducked away again, pulling himself up by a tree.

He used the tree to protect his back, fending off Azog's attacks, bark and pieces of wood raining down on him as he ducked under a blow, the mace sticking in the soft wood long enough for Thorin to swing at Azog's legs, drawing blood.

With a sudden rush of strength, the brute wrenched the mace free, bringing it down on Thorin's leg. The younger could feel his bones snapping, blood soaking into the forest floor, and struck up blindly, feeling resistance as he struck something soft.

Azog screamed in pain, stumbling back a few paces, and Thorin moved to sit up, the pain from his leg making him dizzy, the sight of the bones and blood and torn flesh bringing bile to his throat. He swallowed down his horror and tried frantically to pull himself to his feet, but try as he might, he couldn't and he knew right then that this was how he was going to die, with shudders of pain wracking his body, bleeding out live on air.

Azog stood up from where he had sunk to the ground in pain, clutching his bloody arm to his body, dragging his mace behind him. The anger in his eyes made Thorin shrink in on himself slightly, the smaller tribute's attempts to stand and defend himself still not ceasing. The sun broke through the leaves, glinting off the spikes of Azog's mace, and with one swipe, the huge tribute sent Thorin flying, Orcrist skittering over the forest floor. Thorin fell against a tree, sliding to rest among the roots in a bloody, broken heap.

He screamed when Azog rammed the spikes of the mace into his torso, effectively pinning him although he didn't have the strength to stand anyway.

"Beg." The brute snarled, digging the weapon in deeper, leaning on it and making Thorin cry out again, but still the smaller tribute shook his head, gritting his teeth as he looked Azog in the eye, never wavering.

"Beg!" Azog repeated, but Thorin's form was stilling, his breaths growing slower, his eyes beginning to glaze over, his body slumping.

The pain wasn't that bad anymore. It was as if he was drifting away. The forest was peaceful around them, the birds and the beauty forgotten in the midst of their fight. This was a good place to die, Thorin thought as his eyes drifted shut. He had fought, hadn't he? He could be proud, his parents and his district could be proud. A smile spread across his face, calm and peaceful. He could go, now.

The cannon went off.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry.


	11. The Last Goodbye

The sound of the cannon made Kili stop in his tracks, horror flooding through him as the echoes rumbled through the still, warm air. Behind him, at the forest's edge, a few birds shrieked, flying up at the sudden sound. The grass swayed gently in the wind, rustling softly, the green of the meadow interspersed with the vivid colours of wildflowers. The sky was a beautiful, cornflower blue, clear and vivid as Fili's eyes had been when they had first kissed, down at the river, the cool water lapping at their toes.

 _Fili._ The bird's shrieks stilled, the sudden tremor that seemed to have gone through the arena at the cannon's sound stilling, the world returning to normal. Normal, how could anything be normal, how could the world be calm again when Fili might be in danger, or even dead?

Kili turned towards the forest, stumbling at first, his legs shaky and unwilling to support his weight, but he had regained his composure within moments and began sprinting through the high grass, jumping over any obstacles in his way. He didn't even know for sure how to find Fili, but he couldn't just stay where he was, what if Fili was dying?

He was already out of breath when he reached the fringes of the forest, heart hammering and head spinning, a rushing sound filling his ears. The sunlight faded slightly as he ducked under the trees, dodging roots and scraggly thorn bushes. The ground was soft and springy beneath his feet, uneven and treacherous, but he didn't slow down for a second, driven on by the fear and panic rushing through him.

His vision began to swim, the forest seeming to blur around him, and he tripped, falling to his knees inelegantly before scrambling to get up again, not even noticing his skinned palms. He tottered from exhaustion, stumbling like a drunk man for a few steps. His hair had come undone, and the wild, scraggly mess was hanging in his eyes, obscuring his vision further.

His attention was drawn by a loud chattering noise to a tree branch just above him, his steps slowing even further until he was standing motionless, fear rising up in him as he watched a flock of birds settling on the branches above his head. There must have been hundreds of them, their feathers a sleek, inky black, their cries loud and shrill. They settled in an ever greater flock, screeching at him from every branch, glaring at him, their sky-blue eyes filled with something almost akin to hate.

Kili observed with wide, scared eyes as they rose seemingly as one, the slow flapping of their wings audible even over his harsh breathing. He couldn't run anymore, the exhaustion keeping him firmly in place. Kili could just watch in helpless fear as the flock turned on him, shrieking, a whirl of feathers and beaks and cold, blue eyes.

He managed to shield his face, curling in on himself, falling to his knees as sharp claws and beaks scratched his arms, the bird's screeches loud in his ears. He was close to crying, he realized, whimpering from the pain and the hopelessness as strong wings beat against him and feathers swirled around him and wild shrieks sounded in his ear, like those of a dying beast.

It was over as suddenly as it had begun. Kili raised his face from the protection of his arms carefully and stood up, his knees still shaking. The birds were vanishing betweeen the trees, their cries now silenced. Only one of them was left, hopping around on the ground by his feet, back and forth, back and forth, like a curious puppy. It cocked its head slightly, watching Kili out of bright blue eyes. Kili frowned down at it. These birds weren't natural, that much was clear, but then wouldn't they stay in their flock? Why was this one still here?

The bird fluttered a short distance before settling down again, looking back at the brunet, something almost like impatience in its eyes...

It struck Kili suddenly, the eyes, he knew those eyes. Blue eyes, pink lips, laughter and warm arms around him, how had he only noticed now? The bird was meant to lead him somewhere, the _Gamemakers_ were leading him somewhere, and so what if it was a trap, if the bird's eye-colour was some kind of clue, then Kili knew exactly what the trap, or maybe the bait, was, and it was more than worth it.

Without a second thought, he sprang up, sprinting after the bird as it flitted through the trees ahead of him.

 

Kili followed the bird through the forest for what felt like ages, sometimes tripping in his haste to keep up, before the bird spiralled upwards, vanishing between green boughs, and leaving Kili alone in the sun-drenched forest, breath harsh and heart pumping furiously. He frowned as he looked around. The forest was still, peaceful, seemingly frozen in time, no trace of human life anywhere. Kili cursed as he kicked at a tree stump moodily, angry at himself for actually allowing himself  to hope, for daring to believe that he would find, no, be _lead,_ to Fili, be he dead or alive.

He stood completely still for some time and breathed in the forest around him, trying to fight down the anger, sadness and, although he tried so hard to deny it, the guilt that was forming a hard knot in his chest, choking him. He should never have left Fili. They were meant to protect each other and face the end together, no matter how it might look like.

He had been so absolutely sure that this was the Gamemaker's doing, that the bird would lead him to Fili, but it hadn't, and now he was alone, exhausted, and lost. He couldn't see the mountain from here, had lost every sense of direction. His plan had been to get to the edge of the arena, away from the mountain and try to wait the whole thing out, or find some kind of fighting advantage. Now he could just hope he didn't walk straight into Thorin and Bilbo, both of who were probably still skulking around the forest somewhere.

"God." Kili whimpered, rubbing his eyes and burying his face in his hands. This wasn't really the worst situation he had found himself in over the last week, but at the moment it felt like it, the hopelessness and loneliness crashing over him in waves.

He wanted to give up.

 The steady shuffling of heavy footsteps tore him out of his thoughts, the wariness and nervosity he had gotten so used by now setting in once again.

He had flitted behind a tree in seconds, pulling an arrow out of his quiver and setting it on his bowstring. This was what the bird had been leading him to, he realized within seconds, as the steps grew louder and louder. This was the trap.

The footsteps were unhurried, purposeful, shifting over dry, rustling leaves without haste, but whoever it was was being careful, taking great care to step quietly. The mysterious person was no louder than a deer stalking through the forest, but Kili was a hunter, and he knew how to listen.

Was it Fili? Had the bird been leading them together after all? Or was it something- someone- much, much worse?

Kili's breath was unbearably loud in the near silence. His heart was pounding in his ears, adrenaline rushing through his veins, muscles clenching with apprehension. His breath caught in his throat as he spotted a shadow through the trees, coming steadily closer. The hairs on the back of Kili's neck stood up as he watched, heart pounding too quickly.

The shadow was too large, much too large, to be Fili.

He could hear breathing by now, harsh huffs and pants those weren't his own. Whomever the shadow belonged to seemed to be in pain, his pace too slow and steady for the heavy breathing to be due to exertion.

Kili's fingers played gently with the bowstring.

The shadow was coming closer, the soft rustling of his footsteps in accordance with the quick rhythm of Kili's thumping heart.

The feathers of the arrow were cool against his fingers, smooth and soft, dried blood spattering the ragged fringes.

The soft clattering of rock against rock, a sharp intake of breath as if the shadow was stopping itself from cursing.

Kili's muscles tensed, and he edged around the tree slightly, his face pressing against the rough bark, the smell of sap sharp in his nose, eyes tracking every minute movement beyond his hiding place.

The world was in a state of supernatural clarity.

He could see the path his arrow would take, could feel the movement in his bones, pulling back the bowstring, releasing with a sharp breath, he could feel and he could see all of it, and he could do nothing but wait for that moment.

The world held its breath.

Now.

 

It was a good shot.

Kili didn't even register his own movements until the arrow was firmly embedded in his opponent's torso, just beneath the rib cage. The movements were fully automatic, his mind seeming to shut off for a moment, but, in time with the _thump_ of the arrow embedding itself in flesh, everything came rushing back at once.

Azog, he realized through a haze of fear threatening to envelop him. Azog, hit, surprise in pale blue eyes. Birds had stopped singing. The shuffling was gone, of course it was gone, the brute wasn't moving anymore. Everything seemed so quiet. Then the sound returned, the wind in the trees, Azog's harsh, pained breathing as he doubled over in pain, birdsong, Kili's own frantic heartbeat.

Kili's legs were shaking, although he didn't quite know why. He didn't move, couldn't move, watching silently as Azog curled in on himself, a sound leaving his lips that was something between a shriek and a grunt.

Only now did Kili notice that the brute's lower left arm was missing. It was tied off firmly at the middle of the upper arm, the tight-drawn strip of cloth that had once been a tribute's shirt keeping the arm numb and the bleeding to a minimum.

Azog raised his head. He was glowering, blue eyes burning with pain, pain and anger and furious hate. A growl built up in his throat, rumbling through his chest, and his hand clenched around his mace, Kili's blood running cold at the sight. Kili took a deep breath as he steeled himself, dropping his bow in favour of pulling his sword, shouldering off his backpack and letting it drop to the ground. They were too far into the Games for mercy, and too far into the Games to run away.

One of them would have to die here.

Azog was upon Kili in seconds, covering the ground quickly in long strides, the arrow below his ribcage barely seeming to bother him.

Kili went in for the first attack, aiming at Azog's lower torso, but the brute blocked the swing easily with his mace, Kili stumbling as Azog pushed his weapon away, and the brute used that moment of imbalance to swing the mace back around easily.

Azog sent the thin tribute flying with a sweeping blow, Kili crashing into a tree, his back erupting with pain and sword flying from his grasp. The brunet ducked under the next swing, throwing himself towards his sword, fingers finding the blade even as Azog crashed the mace down on his left leg. Kili screamed, feeling the cold metal bite into flesh and his bones breaking under the force, bright lights flaring before his eyes from the pain. His trembling fingers closed around the hilt, and he rolled over to thrust blindly at Azog. The brute caught his hand easily, dodging the weapon. Kili's fingers were forced open painfully, the younger giving a hoarse yell of pain as Azog pried open his grip and hauled him up by his wrist, fingers painfully tight around Kili's arm.

Azog slammed his mace into Kili's ribcage one final time in the same moment that Fili rushed out from between the trees.

 

Kili's scream of anguish broke something inside Fili, the blond able to do nothing but watch helplessly as Azog threw Kili to the ground, the brute sensing victory as he lifted his weapon for the death blow.

Fili hurled himself at the taller tribute, bellowing out his challenge as he pulled his swords, ignoring the stinging pain in his fingers as he moved them so soon after injury.

Azog turned around at the sound of Fili's cry, not able to lift his weapon in time to defend himself. Fili's first swing landed on his shoulder, slicing through the layers of clothing and glancing off of something hard.

Fili drew back, alarmed, going into a defensive stance automatically. The sun glinted off his opponent's shoulder, or, more precisely, off the armour protecting it. Fili shrunk back for a moment, fully aware now that Azog had the upper hand in this fight. It was a mystery to him how Azog had even gotten the armour, but more important right now was to defeat him despite the advantage.

Fili ducked away from Azog's swings at first, going in to swipe at his legs and dodging away again, but the brute learned quickly to expect it. Fili was smaller, and swifter, and he used it to his advantage, preserving his strength as much as possible, preferring to dodge and duck away from Azog's weapon.

Fili let Azog swing at him once again, dodging the blow narrowly and launching himself against the brute's chest, but his sword glanced off the armour once again, and he cursed as he ducked away again, dancing out of reach once more. Fili used his shorter stature to his advantage by striking up from below whenever possible. He aimed for Azog's stump if he could, knowing how painful a blow there would be.

Fili parried one of Azog's swings with both swords, the strength of the blow jarring his arms, and pushed the brute back forcefully so he stumbled back a few steps, quickly following up to swipe at Azog's sword arm, blood trickling down as the blade went deep. Azog stumbled back with a pained grunt, and Fili seized the opportunity and aimed another blow at his legs, but the brute was quick, bringing down his mace and scraping Fili's shoulder as the blond tried to dodge. Fili gritted his teeth against the sharp pain, aiming one of his swords Azog's now unprotected side. Azog spun round to block the blow, and Fili's sword shattered from the collision, but the blond didn't miss a beat, leaping forward recklessly to embed the hilt of the broken weapon in Azog's eye.

The brute howled, swinging his mace like a wild thing, Fili losing his second sword to a strong, uncontrolled swing. Azog wiped blood out of his eyes, Fili reaching frantically for one of his knives, but before he could reach them, Azog had grabbed Fili's own sword from the ground and driven it through the blond's chest.

Fili's breath was driven from his body in a single, choked noise. He seemed confused, looking down dumbly at the weapon in his chest, fingers reaching towards the wound slowly.

Azog hurled Fili towards where Kili was lying, pulling the sword out with a sickeningly wet sound. Fili screamed as he fell to the floor, Kili scrambling over to him, taking Fili in his arms as the older heaved with pain.

Fili felt dizzy, his vision swimming, but he could just barely make out Azog striding towards them, and, behind him, in the branches of the trees... Bilbo.

"Kili?" He whispered, the simple word taking up all of his energy.

"Yes?" Kili was crying, caressing Fili's face with trembling hands, lips trembling as rasping breaths left them. Fili grabbed one of Kili's hands, stilling him, calming him. "Kili, Bilbo, he's here, you have to work together. Come on, wildcat. You can do this." The blond gave a shaky smile, more tears welling up in Kili's eyes at the sight, but still the younger managed to move into kneeling position over Fili's body, one trembling hand closing around Fili's discarded sword as he cradled the blond in his lap.

Azog's shadow fell over them, and Kili looked up, shifting to raise the sword, hand trembling.

"You killed him." Kili's voice was no more than a whisper. "You took him from me."

Azog only smirked in answer, his eyes greedy and eager in face of the pain he had brought. Kili knew he didn't have the strength, or the skill to face Azog down. Every breath was more difficult and painful than the last, his left leg was a bloody, useless wreck and blood was beginning to gather at his mouth and trickle down his chin.

Kili bit his lip as a shudder of pain ran through him, and let the sword sink to the ground, eyes trained on the branches behind Azog's shoulder, on Bilbo slowly pulling Sting from its sheath. Azog frowned, following Kili's gaze behind his shoulder.

Before Azog could so much as begin to turn towards the direction Kili was looking in, Bilbo jumped, landing on Azog's shoulders heavily, forcing the brute down and sinking Sting into his neck at the base of his skull. Kili raised his own sword again, using all his remaining strength to ram it into Azog's soft torso as the brute fell onto him, the blade sinking in deep, right next to the bloody arrow.

Small specks of dried blood lined the feathers.

The cannon sounded loud and clear as Kili hurled the body away from them.

 

"Fili?"

"Hey, wildcat."

"Don't go?"

"I don't think that's an option." Fili reached down to entwine their fingers and looking up at Kili. "Are you going home, now?" Fili's breath was laboured, his eyes glassy.

"I don't think so." Kili answered truthfully, the effort of speaking beginning to hurt. "I don't think either of us is going to make it out of here alive."

"I was going to protect you." Tears sprang up in Fili's eyes, and he curled into the comforting warmth of Kili's embrace, the younger supporting him with a steady hand on his back. Their grip on each other's hands tightened, Fili's fingers spasming weakly every now and then from the pain.

"I know." Kili whispered into Fili's hair, burying his face in the soft, golden mane. He reached up with his free hand to carefully run his fingers along a messy braid amidst the wild golden locks.

"I put these in, remember? It seems like a different lifetime now that we're so close to... so close to the end."

"I remember." Fili hummed, a small smile making his lips twitch. "We had a few good days, didn't we?"

"We did." Kili looked down at their entwined fingers. "It's hard to be grateful for them, though. We should have had a lifetime together."

"You know that would have been impossible. I'm glad we had this, at least." The birds were singing again, oblivious to the scene playing out beneath the trees, and it warmed Fili's heart to hear their song.

"Then you're a humbler man than I am. I could never, ever have enough good days with you. I'm a selfish man. I'd rather everyone else die if only you could stay with me." Kili ran a hand up and down Fili's back, more to comfort himself than the other.

"You don't really mean that, you old sap." Fili gave a short, painful-sounding laugh. "But it's very sweet of you, in a psychopathic kind of way."

"You know me, always sappy when it comes to you. Head over heels in love, I am." The brunet leaned forward to brush their battered lips together, the kiss bringing forth memories of sparkling, clear water chattering over rocks, of sunlight and birdsong and a spark of happiness amidst the ruin and danger of the arena.

Fili's eyes remained closed for a long while even after the kiss ended, his voice weak and hoarse when he spoke again, his hand now limp in Kili's. "I would never have chosen a different fate than this." He whispered, opening his eyes again to look at Kili, mustering all the strength he had to brush his knuckles over Kili's cheek. "I love you more than anything."

"And I you." Kili replied, tears painting tracks down his face.

"I know." Fili grinned, and Kili had to roll his eyes despite the tears.

"And... Kili?"

"Yeah?" Kili brought their foreheads together, Fili's ragged breaths washing over his face warmly.

"I'm so very sorry this had to happen."

"I'm not." Kili replied, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "It's been a long week, and the end is less than ideal, but there's nothing we can do now, right? I'd rather be happy that I had the privilege to meet you."

"Yeah, I could do without the ending." Fili chuckled. "But we're going to go together, so at least there's that, huh?"

"At least there's that." Kili agreed, leaning in to kiss Fili again. "I love you."

"I love you too," Fili whimpered in pain as he was shifted in Kili's arms, but kept talking, "I don't think I ever told you that often enough."

"Doesn't matter." Kili sniffed, wiping away tears. He could see the light in Fili's eyes fading quickly, it was a miracle that he had even held on for so long. The sun was painting patterns of golden light on his skin and reflecting off his hair, giving him an ethereal beauty even when covered in dirt and blood.

"Kili Disson." Fili finally murmured. "You are going to be the end of me." With a last, soft sigh, he closed his eyes, his features relaxing, tears still rolling down his cheeks.

"Fili?" Kili asked with rising dread, his voice growing frantic as he gently brushed over Fili's face, wiping away the tear-tracks.

But the only answer was that of the cannon, and Kili bent over Fili's body and sobbed, running his fingers through the golden hair, brushing away dirt and leaves, shaking with sobs and the pain of his injuries.

Only two hours later did the cannon finally announce the end of Kili's grief.

When the helicarrier picked them up, their hands were still entwined.

 

Bilbo sat upon the edge of his hospital bed. He felt empty, the grief of the Games having subsided long ago. He had won, he supposed. Even against overwhelming odds, he had won, he was going to go back home, and he should be glad for that, he _was_ glad, but it didn't feel right. He shouldn't be here, he was sitting in someone else's place, Thorin's perhaps, or Azog's.

He hadn't been close enough to Fili and Kili for grief, not really, but as he had left them behind in the clearing, he had felt a heavy weight settle on his chest nevertheless. They had been older than him, but still too young to die, too happy and vivid and strong to end like that, broken and bloody shadows of their old selves.

They had been doomed from the beginning, their love too strong for either to survive alone. Bilbo, at his own wish, had been allowed to watch footage from the Games, and he thought that he understood it now, the entire story, from beginning to fateful end. It was unprecedented, he knew, such an alliance, such love between two tributes, and it had moved people, both from the Capitol and from the Districts.

Thorin's death weighed even heavier on him than he had thought it would. He had saved Thorin once, and for some reason he felt guilty that he hadn't managed a second time. The older tribute had gone out as he came in; proud, unbowed and, truth be told, a bit obnoxious. He had thought himself as a warrior of old, and that was how he had died. It was fitting, it was the death he had dreamed of in that narrow-minded way of his and that thought at least gave Bilbo comfort.

He sighed and buried his face in his hands. This place, at the end of the Games, it belonged to someone else. It belonged to someone who could deal with the memories, who could forget and live on. It belonged to someone strong.

This place that he had come to at the cost of so many lives, belonged to Thorin Oakenshield.

 

It wasn't a tradition in District 4 to burn the dead, just as it wasn't a tradition in District 12 to set them onto the water until they drifted out of view, but to Fili and Kili's families, traditions had little value. The Capitol viewers had demanded a shared funeral for the star-crossed-lovers of the 14th Hunger Games, a wish that had been denied.

Fili and Kili's cold hands were pried apart, they were clothed in white linen and cotton, and each sent back to their own Districts.

The burials were held on the same day, and both bodies were accompanied through the town, hoarse voices raised in sorrow as they were set upon a pyre, for a child that had died in the Hunger Games was everyone's child and the grieving was not left to the parents.

It was not a tradition in District 4 to burn the dead, but on a stormy summer's day it was done anyway, in memory of the love they had shared, and as a symbol of shared grief for two too young to die.

It was not a tradition to send the ashes out over the river in District 12, to let them float away to the sea that the deceased had never seen while alive, but on a stormy summer's day it was done anyway, and the tears were not for one person, not even for two, but for all that had died by the Capitol's hand, since the war and even before.

That day was a day of remembrance far beyond the lives of two tributes too young to go, and lights were lit in every household of Panem, and silent watch was held while outside, Peacekeepers patrolled the streets.

But the dead were forgotten, their bones trampled by the living desperate to live just a little longer, and they remembered, sometimes, the 14th Hunger Games, the dead and the one that lived, but it was just a tale by the fireside and the grief was gone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you, everyone, for reading, commenting and leaving kudos. I am immensely grateful for all the support I got throughout this project, and your comments often made my day. I hope I'll have the privilege to write for this fandom again (ok, who am I kidding. I'm always going to write for this fandom and this pairing. I have another multi-chapter idea already lined up.)

**Author's Note:**

> You can find me on tumblr: [thegoddessidunn.tumblr.com](http://www.thegoddessidunn.tumblr.com)


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